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HOW THE FLAG BECAME 
OLD GLORY 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
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MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

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THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 




Red, white and blue — it tells its own story — 

But Spring, Who made it and named it Old Glory ? — 

John Trotwood Moore. 



HOW THE FLAG BECAME 
OLD GLORY 



BY 
EMMA LOOK SCOTT 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. C. VALENTINE 



Nefo gorfc 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1915 

All rights reserved 



7 f 

.6 



Copyright, 1912, 
By EMMA LOOK SCOTT. 



Copyright, 1915, 
Bt THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 1915. 



NorinootJ $regs 

J. S. Cushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



.A410885 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

The author acknowledges her indebtedness to 
the following authors and publishers for their 
courtesy in allowing the use of copyright mate- 
rial : to Mr. Wallace Rice for " Wheeler's Brigade 
at Santiago " ; to Mr. Charles Francis Adams for 
" Pine and Palm " ; to Mr. Will Allen Dromgoole 
for " Soldiers " ; to Mr. John Howard Jewitt for 
a selection from " Rebel Flags " ; to Mr. John 
Trotwood Moore for "Old Glory at Shiloh" ; to 
Mr. Henry Holcomb Bennett for " The Flag Goes 
By " ; to Mr. Clinton Scollard for " On the Eve 
of Bunker Hill " ; to P. J. Kenedy and Sons for 
"The Conquered Banner" by Rev. Abram Joseph 
Ryan ; to David MacKay for " Death of Grant " 
by Walt Whitman ; to J. B. Lippincott Company 
for " The Cruise of the Monitor " by George M. 
Boker; to B. F. Johnson Publishing Company, 
publishers of Timrod's Memorial Volume, for 



vi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

" Charleston " by Henry Timrod ; to the Century 
Company for "Farragut" by William Tuckey 
Meredith ; to Mr. Harry L. Flash and the Neale 
Publishing Company for "Stonewall Jackson" 
by Henry Lynden Flash ; to Mr. Will Henry 
Thompson and G. P. Putnam's Sons for "The 
High Tide at Gettysburg " ; to Mr. Isaac R. 
Sherwood and G. P. Putnam's Sons for "Albert 
Sidney Johnston " by Kate Brownlee Sherwood ; 
to Mrs. Benjamin Sledd and G. P. Putnam's Sons 
for "United" by Benjamin Sledd. An extract 
from " Home Folks " by James Whitcomb Riley, 
copyright, 1900, is used by permission of the pub- 
lishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company. The poems, 
" Lexington " by Oliver Wendell Holmes, " The 
Building of the Ship " and " The Cumberland " 
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "Yorktown" 
by John Greenleaf Whittier, "Fredericksburg" 
by Thomas Bailey Aldrich, "Kearny at Seven 
Pines " by E. C. Stedman, and " Robert E. Lee " 
by Julia Ward Howe are printed by permission 
of Houghton Mifflin Company. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

The Flag Goes By 1 

Old Glory . 3 

In the Light of the Old North Church ... 19 

Lexington 23 

On the Eve of Bunker Hill 27 

The Flag of Fort Stanwix 31 

The Knight of the Sea 39 

Where the Stars and Stripes Unfurled . . .51 

The Surrender of Burgoyne 56 

The Yoke of Britain Broken 57 

Yorktown 60 

From the Other Side 62 

The Star-Spangled Banner 66 

The Defense of the Crescent City .... 68 

The Civil War 77 

Charleston .79 

Fredericksburg 81 

Civil War 82 

'Round Shiloh Church 84 

Albert Sidney Johnston 91 

vii 



viii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Old Glory at Shiloh 96 

The Flag of the Cumberland 100 

The Cumberland 104 

The Monitor 107 

The Cruise of the Monitor 110 

The Night of Chantilly 114 

Kearney at Seven Pines 120 

The Cavalry Charge 122 

An Immortal Twain 125 

Stonewall Jackson 132 

The High Tide at Gettysburg 133 

United 138 

Old Heart of Oak 140 

Farragut 151 

Pine and Palm 154 

The Conquered Banner . . . . . 157 

The Conquered Banner 159 

Death of Grant 162 

Robert E. Lee 164 

Old Glory on the Island 166 

Wheeler's Brigade at Santiago .... 170 

Soldiers 172 



HOW THE FLAG BECAME 
OLD GLORY 



HOW THE FLAG BECAME 
OLD GLORY 

THE FLAG GOES BY 

HATS off! 
Along the street there comes 
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, 
A flash of color beneath the sky ; 
Hats off ! 
The flag is passing by ! 

Blue and crimson and white it shines, 

Over the steel-tipped ordered lines, 

Hats off! 

The colors before us fly ! 

But more than the flag is passing by. 

Sea-fights and land-fights, grim and great, 
Fought to make and to save the State. 
Weary marches and sinking ships ; 
Cheers of victory on dying lips. 



2 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Days of plenty and years of peace ; 
March of a strong land's swift increase ; 
Equal justice, right and law, 
Stately honor and reverent awe ; 

Sign of a Nation, great and strong 
To ward her people from foreign wrong : 
Pride and glory and honor — all 
Live in the colors to stand or fall. 

Hats off! • 

Along the street there comes 

A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, 

And loyal hearts are beating high : 

Hats off ! 

The flag is passing by ! 

Henry Holcomb Bennett. 



OLD GLORY 

YT^HILE every American citizen recognizes 
V T the significance of the term "Old Glory " as 
applied to the national flag, when and where and 
by whom the nation's emblem was christened with 
this endearing and enduring sobriquet is a matter 
of historic interest less understood. 

In the early epoch-making period of the nation's 
history William Driver, a lad of twelve years, 
native of Salem, Mass., begged of his mother 
permission to go to sea. With her consent he 
shipped as cabin boy on the sailing vessel China, 
bound for Leghorn, a voyage of eighteen months. 

On this first voyage the courageous spirit of 
the youth manifested itself in a determination 
to disprove the words of the ship's owner, made 
to him at the beginning of the voyage: "All 
boys on their first voyage eat more than they 
earn." 

In appreciation of the mettle shown by the 

3 



4 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

lad, the owner presented him, upon the return 
from the cruise, with twenty-eight dollars in 
silver, besides his wages of five dollars per month. 
He carried the money to his mother, who wisely 
admonished him to do the very best he could 
under every circumstance, a charge he never 
forgot. 

His intrepid spirit brought the youthful mari- 
ner rapid and deserved promotion. His eight- 
eenth year found him master of a vessel. Those 
were hazardous days upon the sea, and more 
than once his ship was subjected to indignity 
and outrage incident to seafaring of that period. 
But throughout a long career as master of a 
merchantman the Stars and Stripes was never 
lowered from the masthead nor sullied by defeat 
or by dishonor. 

The sailor, of all men, venerates his nation's 
flag. To him it is the visible and tangible token 
of the government he serves, and in it he beholds 
all the government's strength and virtue. To 
William Driver, therefore, the Stars and Stripes 
typified the glory of the land and of the sea. 
And seeing his nation's symbol float dauntless 




Captain William Driver. 



6 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

and triumphant above stress of every encounter 
and happening upon the deep enkindled the 
inherent love in his heart for it to enthusiastic 
ardor, and in thought he called the flag "Old 
Glory." 

A simple incident, but fraught with unread 
meaning, gave the name into the nation's keep, 
albeit its formal christening and national adoption 
was not to come until the soil beneath its folds 
should be deep-dyed with the blood of conflict 
between the land's own countrymen. 

In 1831, as master of the brig Charles Daggett, 
about to set sail for a voyage i around the world 
from Salem, Mass., Captain Driver was presented 
by the citizens with a large bunting flag in com- 
mendation of his services upon the sea and his 
well-known love for his country's emblem. This 
flag, when presented, was rolled in the form of a 
triangle, and the halyards bent. A young sailor, 
stepping forward, said: "In ancient times, when 
an ocean voyage was looked upon with super- 
stitious dread, it was the custom on the eve of 
departure to roll the banner in form of a triangle. 
When ready and bent like this, a priest stepped 




Photo of Original Flag. 



Old Glory." 



8 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

forward and, taking the banner in his hand, 
sprinkled it with consecrated water and dedicated 
it to 'God the Father, God the Son, and God 
the Holy Ghost/ turning the point of the triangle 
upward at the name of each, thus calling on that 
sacred unity of Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier 
to Ibless the national emblem and prosper the 
voyagers and their friends. The flag thus con- 
secrated was then hoisted to the masthead." 

With glistening eyes the captain watched the 
hoisting of the flag ; and as it fell into position at 
the masthead of his ship and the colors unfurled 
to the breeze, he shouted: 'Til call her Old 
Glory, boys, Old Glory!" 

Cheer after cheer rent the air. The signals of 
departure were sounded, the cables were cast 
off, and the good ship set sail for foreign ports. 

This was the ninth and most memorable voy- 
age made by Captain Driver. From the island 
of Tahiti he rescued the suffering descendants of 
the mutineers of the English ship Bounty, and at 
risk of grave considerations turned his vessel 
from her outlined course and returned them to 
their beautiful and longed-for home, Pitcairn, 



OLD GLORY 9 

in the waters of the South Pacific, the settle- 
ment of an island, which marks one of the memo- 
rable events of English naval history. 

Captain Driver made his last voyage around 
the globe in command of the Black Warrior. 
At the masthead flew his Salem flag, Old Glory, 
to which he never referred but by that loving 
pseudonym. 

He left the sea in 1837 to become a resident of 
Nashville, Tenn. He carried Old Glory with 
him as a sacred relic, carefully deposited in a 
heavy, brass-bound, camphorwood sea chest that 
had accompanied him on all his voyages. On 
legal holidays, on St. Patrick's day (which was 
his own birthday), and on days of especial cele- 
bration in the Southern city Old Glory was 
released from confinement and thrown to the 
light from some window of the Driver residence 
or hung on a rope across the street in a triumphal 
arch under which all processions passed. 

At the outbreak of the civil strife Captain 
Driver avowed his Union sympathies and stood 
openly for his convictions in the face of business 
losses, arrest, and threatened banishment. 



OLD GLORY 11 

Just after the secession of the State he daringly 
flaunted his Old Glory flag from his window; 
then, fearing its confiscation (which his action 
had rendered liable), he procured a calico quilt 
of royal purple hue, and with the aid of two 
neighboring women sewed it up between the 
coverings and hid the quilt in his old sea chest. 

Again and again the house was searched by 
Confederate soldiers for this flag, but without 
success. 

Under the purple Old Glory rested. The 
flag of the Confederacy waved above the Capitol ; 
and Nashville, in pride, prosperity, and splen- 
dor, basked in the promise of ultimate victory to 
the Southland. 

But to a rude awakening this fancied security 
was foredoomed. Suddenly, like the breaking 
of a terrific thunderclap above the city, came 
the awesome cry: "Fort Donelson has fallen!" 

Fort Donelson fallen meant Nashville's sub- 
jection. Terror-stricken, the people rushed wildly 
in every direction, and the most ill-founded 
reports in the excitement gained ready credence. 
It was announced that General Buell would 



12 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

speedily arrive and open his batteries from across 
the river, and that gunboats would lay the city 
in ruins. Some of the citizens urged the burning 
of the city, that no spoils might be left to the 
enemy. 

The fine suspension bridge across the Cumber- 
land was fired. The commissaries were thrown 
open, and vast quantities of public stores, amount- 
ing to millions of dollars, were distributed among 
the inhabitants or destroyed. The archives of 
the State were hurriedly conveyed to Memphis. 
In the mad desire to escape an impending doom 
of whose nature they were wholly ignorant, 
residents vacated their houses and left priceless 
furnishings a prey to the invading army. On 
foot, on horseback, by wagon, by any available 
means that best favored their flight, the crowds 
surged out of the conquered city. 

Notwithstanding the apprehensions of speedy 
hostilities, it was a week later before General 
Buell was encamped in Edgefield, opposite the 
city. To him the mayor formally surrendered 
Nashville. A proclamation was issued assuring the 
inhabitants of protection in person and property. 



OLD GLORY 13 

Up the Cumberland steamed fifteen transports 
and one gunboat — General Nelson's wing of 
the Union army. From the levee came the clamor 
and shouts of men, the rattle of musketry, and 
din of many feet. The Sixth Ohio was the first 
regiment to land. Captain Driver was an inter- 
ested observer of the scene. "Now," said he, 
"hath the hour of Old Glory come !" 

Lieutenant Thacher, of the Sixth, with a squad 
of soldiers, left the regiment and escorted Captain 
Driver to his home, a few blocks distant. They 
wrested Old Glory from its hiding place and, with 
the old mariner bearing the flag in his arms, 
quickly rejoined the regiment. 

Up the hill, amidst rattle of drum and sound- 
ing trumpets, passed the bluecoats to the Capitol. 
There a small regimental flag was being hoisted. 
Suddenly a hush fell upon the waiting victors. 
The figure of Captain Driver appeared high 
against the dome of the Statehouse. The strains 
of "The Star-Spangled Banner" burst upon the 
ear; and amid cheers and cries of "Old Glory! 
Old Glory !" that echoed to the distant hills the 
old sea flag unfurled and floated above the top- 



OLD GLORY 15 

most pinnacle of the Capitol of Tennessee. 
And thus Old Glory received her formal christen- 
ing. 

Swarming over the city, bent on various quests, 
went the victorious Federals. Not so the old 
sailor. The revered flag, flaunting the colors so 
joyously above his head once more, was far too 
weather-beaten, he feared, to withstand long the 
stiff breeze blowing about the elevated site. Torn 
to ribbons it must not be, howsoever good the 
cause. 

Quietly he watched and waited about the 
grounds until after nightfall, when, under cover 
of the darkness, he again ascended the dome, 
rescued his beloved old flag, and swung in its 
place a big merino one that had figured as a 
campaign flag in 1840, when "Tippecanoe and 
Tyler too" was the slogan of the Whig Party. 
He then carried Old Glory to his home and laid 
it tenderly away in the old sea locker so long 
dedicated to its use. 

Very gradually thereafter the pleasing appella- 
tion, Old Glory, made its impress upon the speech 
of the populace, until, in the later nineties, the 



16 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

"Hoosier Poet" was moved to expression in 
verse : 

Old Glory, the story we're wanting to hear, 

Is what the plain facts of your christening were, 

For your name, just to hear it, 

Repeat it and cheer it, s'tang to the spirit 

As salt as a tear. 

And seeing you fly and the boys marching by, 

There's a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye 

And an aching to live for you always or die ; 

And so, by our love for you floating above, 

And the scars of all wars and the sorrows thereof, 

Who gave you the name of Old Glory ? 

James Whitcomb Riley. 

But to the query the sealed lips of the old 
seaman answered not. For him had come the 
higher summons. 

Captain Driver's death occurred in Nashville 
in 1886. At the head of his grave, in the old 
City Cemetery, stands a unique monument of his 
own designing. Upon an old tree trunk, in stone, 
appears a ship's anchor and cable. At the top 
of the anchor is inscribed the beloved pseudonym 
of his heart's own coinage, above him here, even 



OLD GLORY 17 

in his last sleep : " His ship, his country, and his 
flag — Old Glory." About his body when placed 
within the casket was wrapped a United States 
flag. 

A few years prior to his death Captain Driver 
placed his Old Glory flag in the hands of his elder 
daughter, Mrs. Roland, of Wells, Nev., who was 
then on a visit to him, saying brokenly as he 
resigned it; "Take this flag and cherish it as I 
have done. I love it as a mother loves her child. 
It has been with me, and it has protected me in 
all parts of the world." 

Worn and faded and tattered, this flag is still 
in the possession of Mrs. Roland ; and in her far 
Western home it is displayed on patriotic occasions 
and the story of its naming repeated. Another, 
presumably the Whig flag herein mentioned, and 
that, as has been shown, also flew over the Capi- 
tol of Tennessee, was sent by Captain Driver, 
upon request, to the Essex Institute, of Massa- 
chusetts. Some confusion has of late arisen in 
the public mind regarding the identity of the two 
flags, it having been generally believed that the 
original Old Glory was the flag in the Massachusetts 



18 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Institute. This impression is, however, doubt- 
less erroneous. 

Notwithstanding a somewhat brusque address 
and a marked individuality of speech and action, 
Captain Driver was a man of warm and kindly 
nature. Although a stanch Unionist, he lent a 
ready and willing hand to the suffering ones of 
the South. He married the first time Miss 
Martha Babbage, of Salem, Mass. For his 
second wife he espoused a Southern woman, 
Sarah J. Parks, of Nashville, Tenn. Two of 
his sons bore arms in the Confederate service. 
One of these gave his life for the "lost cause." 

It remained for yet another conflict after the 
civil strife to bring the name Old Glory into 
general and popular use, for the blended ranks 
of the Blue and the Gray opposed a common 
foe. When the North and the South joined hands 
against a foreign power and floated the Stars and 
Stripes above the emblem of Spain upon the 
island of Cuba, the flag of the Union became Old 
Glory to every man of the nation. 



IN THE LIGHT OF THE OLD NORTH 
CHURCH 

"History points no struggle for liberty which has in it more 
of the moral sublime than that of the American Revolution." 

THEY were a godly people, these revolution- 
ary fathers of ours. They prayed as they 
thought; and they fought as they believed and 
prayed. They sought no quarrel with the mother 
country; they asked only independent action, 
considering themselves full grown in point of 
knowledge of their needs and desires, although 
but infants in age as compared with other sub- 
jects of Great Britain. 

When, therefore, Old England announced, "You 
shall pay taxes !" the colonists demurred. 

"We are not represented in your Parliament; 
we have no voice in your councils I" 

"But you must pay taxes," she commanded. 

They replied, "We will not." 

"I will compel you," retorted she. 

19 



20 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 




The Old North Church. 



"If you can," was 
the answer. 

A British fleet then 
sailed into Boston 
harbor, and British 
soldiers swarmed over 
Boston town. This 
action enraged the 
citizens. It angered 
the "Sons of Liberty," 
whose name is self- 
explanatory and 
whose slogan was 
"Liberty or Death," 
and inspired them to 
more vigorous efforts 
toward freedom from 
Britain's power. The 
"Minute Men" were 
organized and stood 
ready to the sum- 
mons, ready at a min- 
ute's notice to leave 
forest, field, or fire- 



THE LIGHT OF THE OLD NORTH CHURCH 21 

side, to take up arms in defense of their liberties 
and their rights. 

The spirit of dissension ran rife; and petty 
altercations between the British soldiers and the 
citizens were of daily occurrence. A trivial hap- 
pening brought about the Boston Massacre. 
A "Son of Liberty" and a British soldier dis- 
puted the right of way of a street passage. 

"Stand aside/' said the one. 

"Give way," said the other. 

Neither would yield. Blows followed. Rocks 
flew. The soldiers marshaled and fired into the 
crowd. Several citizens were killed. The town 
was ablaze with excitement. And the governor 
had finally to withdraw the troops from Boston. 

When antagonism had abated in degree, King 
George devised new measures of taxation and 
stirred ill feeling again. Boston brewed British 
tea in the ocean. England disliked the taste of 
it. The people were declared Rebels; and the 
charter of Massachusetts was annulled by Parlia- 
ment. Ten thousand British soldiers then came 
over. Boston Neck was seized and fortified. 
The colonists were to be forced into obedience. 



22 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Then from Lexington and Concord the signals 
of revolt were sounded — 

"They were building well for a race unborn, 
As the British plowed through the waving corn, 
For the birth-pang of Freedom rang that morn." 

The Battle of Bunker Hill that followed was 
but the natural sequence. Defeated though the 
patriots were in this their first real battle, it was 
a defeat that spelled for them ultimate victory. 
This they recognized dimly, but certainly, as 
they knew that they had gone into battle with a 
prayer on their lips for themselves, for their 
homes, and their country. Their hearts were 
fired anew for freedom. Their arms would be 
strengthened to their desires. As the lights from 
the belfry of Old North Church revealed to Paul 
Revere the route the British were to take against 
them in the memorable beginnings at Lexington 
and Concord, so the light from the Great Book 
above its chancel rail would direct them the way 
they should go. 



LEXINGTON 

With one impulse the colonies sprung to arms; with one 
spirit they pledged themselves to each other, "to be ready for 
the extreme event." With one heart the continent cried, 
"Liberty or Death!" Bancroft. 

SLOWLY the mist o'er the meadow was creeping, 
Bright on the dewy buds glistened the sun, 
When from his couch while his children were sleeping, 
Rose the bold rebel, and shouldered his gun. 
Waving her golden veil 
Over the silent dale, 

Blithe looked the morning on cottage and spire ; 
Hushed was his parting sigh, 
While from his noble eye, 
Flashed the last sparkle of liberty's fire. 

On the smooth green, where the fresh leaf is springing, 
Calmly the first-born of glory have met, 
Hark ! the death-volley around them is ringing ! 
Look ! with their lif eblood the young grass is wet ! 
Faint is the feeble breath, 
Murmuring low in death, — 
"Tell to our sons how their fathers have died ;" 

23 





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■■: : ■' 





LEXINGTON 25 

Nerveless the iron hand, 

Raised for its native land, 

Lies by the weapon that gleams at its side. 

Over the hillsides the wild knell is tolling, 

From their far hamlets the yeomanry come ; 

As through the storm-clouds the thunderburst rolling 

Circles the beat of the mustering drum. 

Fast on the soldier's path 

Darken the waves of wrath, 

Long have they gathered and loud shall they fall ; 

Red glares the muskets' flash, 

Sharp rings the rifles' crash 

Blazing and clanging from thicket and wall. 

Gayly the plume of the horseman was dancing, 

Never to shadow his cold brow again ; 

Proudly at morning the war steed was prancing, 

Reeking and panting he droops on the rein ; 

Pale is the lip of scorn, 

Voiceless the trumpet horn, 

Torn is the silken-fringed red cross on high ; 

Many a belted breast 

Low on the turf shall rest, 

Ere the dark hunters the herd have passed by. 

Snow-girdled crags where the hoarse wind is raving, 
Rocks where the weary floods murmur and wail, 
Wilds where the fern by the furrow is waving, 



26 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Reeled with the echoes that rode on the gale ; 

Far as the tempest thrills 

Over the darkened hills 

Far as the sunshine streams over the plain, 

Roused by the tyrant band, 

Woke all the mighty land, 

Girded for battle, from mountain to main. 

Green be the graves where her martyrs are lying ! 

Shroudless and tombless they sank to their rest, 

While o'er their ashes the starry fold flying 

Wraps the proud eagle they roused from his nest ! 

Borne on her Northern pine, 

Long o'er the foaming brine, 

Spread her broad banner to storm and to sun ; 

Heaven keep her ever free, 

Wide as o'er land and sea, 

Floats the fair emblem her heroes have won ! 

0. W. Holmes. 



ON THE EVE OF BUNKER HILL 

The consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill were greater 
than those of any ordinary conflict. It was the first great 
battle of the Revolution, and not only the first blow, but the 
blow which determined the contest. When the sun of that 
day went down, the event of independence was no longer 
doubtful. 

Webster. 
June 16, 1775 

TWAS June on the face of the earth, June with 
the rose's breath, 
When life is a gladsome thing, and a distant dream 

is death ; 
There was gossip of birds in the air, and the lowing of 

herds by the wood, 
And a sunset gleam in the sky that the heart of a 

man holds good ; 
Then the nun-like Twilight came, violet vestured and 

still, 
And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve of 

Bunker Hill : 

There rang a cry through the camp, with its word 

upon rousing word ; 
There was never a faltering foot in the ranks of those 

that heard. 

27 



ON THE EVE OF BUNKER HILL 29 

Lads from the Hampshire hills and the rich Connect- 
icut vales, 

Sons of the old Bay Colony, from its shores and its 
inland dales ; 

Swiftly they fell in line ; no fear could their valor chill ; 

Ah, brave the show as they ranged a-row on the eve 
of Bunker Hill. 

Then a deep voice lifted a prayer to God of the brave 

and the true 
And the heads of the men were bare in the gathering 

dusk and dew ; 
The heads of a thousand men were bowed as the 

pleading rose, — 
Smite Thou, Lord, as of old Thou smotest Thy 

people's foes ! 
Oh, nerve Thy Servants' arms to work with a mighty 

will! 
A hush, and then a loud Amen ! on the eve of Bunker 

Hill! 

Now they are gone through the night with never a 
thought of fame, 

Gone to the field of a fight that shall win them death- 
less name ; 

Some shall never again behold the set of the sun, 

But lie like the Concord slain, and the slain of Lexing- 
ton, 



30 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Martyrs to Freedom's cause. Ah, how at their 

deeds we thrill, 
The men whose might made strong the height on the 

eve of Bunker Hill. 

Clinton Scollard. 



THE FLAG OF FORT STANWIX 

TRITE but true is the old adage that necessity 
is the mother of invention. The first flag 
that flew over an American fort was constructed 
from an " ammunition shirt, a blue jacket captured 
from the British, and a woman's red petticoat." 
The garrison at Fort Stanwix (Fort Schuyler) 
had no flag; but it had possession of the fort 
despite the siege of twenty days against it by 
the British; and it had five British standards 
taken from the enemy. So it improvised a flag 
and, with cheers and yells befitting the occasion, 
ran the British standards upside down upon the 
flag mast and swung the Stars and Stripes above 
them. The redcoats looked, and, it is safe to 
assert, laughed not, as to them the humor of the 
situation was not appealing. But if they were 
lacking in the sense of humor, these sons of Old 

31 



32 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

England were not lacking in persistence, and they 
besieged the fort with steady determination. 

Fort Stanwix stood at the head of navigation 
of the Mohawk River and was an important fea- 
ture in the plan of General Burgoyne to cut off 
New England from the southern colonies and thus 
control the whole country. Embarking upon this 
expedition, he had instructed his army: "The 
services required are critical and conspicuous. 
Difficulty, nor labor, nor life are to be regarded. 
The army must not retreat." As he advanced 
down the Hudson he swept everything before 
him. Ticonderoga, Mount Defiance, Whitehall, 
Fort Edward, each in turn fell : and he now 
anticipated no successful resistance to his forces. 

At the beginning of General Burgoyne's inva- 
sion a force of Canadians, Hessians, New York 
Tories, and Indians commanded by General St. 
Leger had been sent against Fort Stanwix. The 
post was held by General Gansevoort with some 
seven hundred and fifty men. They were ill sup- 
plied with ammunition and had few provisions. 
To Burgoyne defeat seemed here impossible. The 
siege had, however, been anticipated by the 



THE FLAG OF FORT STANWIX 33 

garrison, and the men had determined to hold 
out to the last extremity. 

Word was surreptitiously conveyed to Colonel 
Willett within the fort that General Herkimer 
would set out with eight hundred volunteers to 
reenforce him and that a successful sortie might 
be made against the besiegers by acting in con- 
junction with General Herkimer's forces. This 
sortie was to be made when a certain signal was 
given. But the best-laid plans, as we all have 
doubtless learned by experience, are not always 
dependable. 

St. Leger in this case learned of Herkimer's 
advance and sent the savages under his command 
to intercept and ambuscade him. A terrible 
hand-to-hand combat ensued in which a hundred 
and sixty of the colonists were killed and the loss 
to the Indians was as great. General Herkimer's 
horse was shot under him and he himself wounded 
severely in the leg. Notwithstanding his agony 
he insisted upon being placed with his back against 
a tree for support, and therefrom he continued 
to direct the battle. In the heat of the contest 
he lighted his pipe and smoked. 



34 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

The further advance of the Americans to the 
succor of the fort was prevented, but Colonel 
Willett, in ignorance of this, made his sally from 
the fort at the hour appointed. Marvelous to 
state, the British were taken wholly by surprise 
and, having no time to form, fled. The Americans 
took possession of their supplies and their stand- 
ards, as before mentioned, and retired to the fort. 

Failing to shell or starve them out, St. Leger 
then began efforts to induce a surrender. Two 
of his American prisoners were compelled to 
write letters to the commandant at the fort, 
exaggerating the strength of the enemy and 
urging, in the name of humanity, a surrender. 
To this Gansevoort returned no answer. St. 
Leger then tried another plan. 

A white flag appeared before the garrison. 
Two British officers were blindfolded and ad- 
mitted to the fort. They were courteously 
received and, when they were seated, were prof- 
fered refreshments. One of the officers then 
presented the message of General St. Leger, which 
was in substance a threat, couched in polite lan- 
guage, that if the fort was not surrendered, the 



THE FLAG OF FORT STANWIX 35 

Indians would be turned loose upon the country, 
and not only the men but all the women and 
children would be tomahawked. Not one should 
escape. But if the garrison would capitulate, 
not only would these evils be averted, but none 
of the garrison should be injured or made prisoners. 

Colonel Willett arose. " I consider, Sir, " said he, 
"the message you bring a degrading one for a 
British officer to send and by no means reputable 
for a British officer to carry. I would suffer 
my body to be filled with splinters and set on 
fire, and such outrages are not uncommon in 
your army, before I would deliver this garrison 
to your mercy. After you get out of it, never 
expect to enter it again unless you come as a 
prisoner." 

Provisions were running low, and some un- 
easiness became manifest in the fort. Colonel 
Willett, observing this, assured the men, " I will 
make a sally in the night, if compelled by lack 
of supplies, and cut our way through the besiegers 
or die in the attempt." The siege had now con- 
tinued more than twenty days, when to the sur- 
prise of the garrison it was suddenly raised. 



36 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

This was due, it shortly appeared, to a ruse of 
General Arnold ; Arnold the valiant, Arnold the 
traitor. 

Among the prisoners of Arnold was a young 
half-witted fellow who was condemned to death. 
His sorrowing mother never ceased her pleading 
with General Arnold for her son's life. Accordingly 
one day he proposed to her this expedient : That 
her son, Hon Yost by name, should make his 
way to Fort Stanwix and in some way so alarm 
the British that they would raise the siege. Ea- 
gerly the old mother promised this should be done 
and offered herself as hostage for the fulfillment 
of the mission. To this Arnold would not con- 
sent, but retained another son in her place. 

Before starting on his errand, Hon Yost's 
clothing was riddled with bullets to indicate 
escape from the Americans. Reaching the camp 
of the Indians, he told in a mysterious way of a 
premeditated attack upon them and aroused 
their fears. St. Leger heard of his arrival and 
questioned him. To St. Leger he related a 
touching story of his capture and miraculous 
escape from execution, and by signs, words, and 




When he was asked the number of the Americans 
about to descend upon them, hon yost pointed to 
the leaves of the trees to indicate a legion. 



38 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

gestures made it appear that he was an emissary 
of Providence to aid in their preservation. Cana- 
dians, Hessians, all became uneasy. When he 
was asked the number of the Americans about 
to descend upon them, Hon Yost pointed to the 
leaves of the trees to indicate a legion. In his 
efforts to terrorize he was ably seconded by a 
young Indian who had accompanied him. Panic 
seized the camps. In vain St. Leger strove to 
allay the frenzy. The result was precipitate 
flight. 

It is given by one authority that St. Leger was 
himself becoming as apprehensive of his red-faced 
allies as he was of the enemy he was fighting. 

The fears he had sought to instill in the minds 
of the garrison were now returned upon his own 
head. 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA 
(Our First European Salute) 

INSEPARABLY connected with the Stars 
and Stripes must ever be the name of John 
Paul Jones. 

The "Untitled Knight of the Sea," the Duchess 
de Chartres — mother of Louis Philippe, after- 
ward King of France; and granddaughter of a 
high admiral of France — was fond of calling 
him. For albeit John Paul Jones was of Scotch 
peasant ancestry, his associates were people of 
the highest intellect and rank. In appearance 
he was handsome; in manner prepossessing; 
and in speech he was a linguist, having at easy 
command the English, French, and Spanish lan- 
guages. His surname was Paul. The name 
Jones was inherited with a fine plantation in 
America. 

The call of the sea was strong to the lad and 
of its dangers he had no fear. An old seaman 



40 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

one day watched him handle a fishing yawl in a 
heavy storm and thought he could never weather 
the squall. "That is my son, John/' said his 
father calmly. "He will fetch her in all right. 
It is not much of a squall for him/' The man 
complimented the boy and offered him a berth 
on his ship then bound for America, little dreaming 
that in so doing he would carry to the New World 
the Father of the American Navy. 

Studious and ambitious, the boy devoted his 
leisure moments to acquiring the most intricate 
knowledge of his profession and soon held posi- 
tions of command. When the news of the battle 
of Lexington reached him, he offered his services 
to Congress. He was made First Lieutenant of 
the Alfred, and over this ship hoisted the first emblem 
shown on an American naval vessel. The design 
of this flag was a pine tree with a rattlesnake 
coiled at the roots and the motto, "Don't tread 
on me," on a background of yellow silk. 

June 14th, 1777, was made notable in American 
annals by the resolution passed by Congress for 
a new flag. Embodied in the resolution the name 
of John Paul Jones appears thus : — 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA 41 

"Resolved — That the flag of the Thirteen 
United States of America be Thirteen Stripes, 
alternate Red and White; that the Union be 
Thirteen Stars on a Blue Field ; Representing a 
New Constellation: 

"Resolved — That Captain John Paul Jones 
be appointed to command the ship Ranger." 

Paul Jones' remarks upon the resolutions were 
significant: "The flag and I are twins; born the 
same hour from the same womb of destiny. We 
cannot be parted in life or in death. So long as 
we can float we shall float together. If we must 
sink, we shall go down as one." 

Before the Ranger was launched, Jones was 
informed that he was to be the bearer of most 
important news to France. This news was the 
daily expected surrender of Burgoyne, the sur- 
render that was so powerfully to affect the result 
of the war for independence. As to his fitness 
for conveying such a message, Lafayette attested 
thus: "To captivate the French fancy, Cap- 
tain Jones possesses, far beyond any other officer 
in your service, that peculiar aplomb, grace of 
manner, charm of person, and dash of char- 



42 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

acter," a compliment better understood when 
it is remembered that an alliance with France 
against Great Britain was then sought by Con- 
gress. 

The Ranger lay in the harbor of Portsmouth, 
New Hampshire, ready for sailing, and Jones 
with his own hands raised the flag to the mast- 
head, the first American flag to fly over a man-of- 
war. Jones had already brought credit to the 
American navy by the capture of prizes in Ameri- 
can waters; now he was to serve his country's 
interests off the coast of England. 

The tang of autumn was in the air when he set 
sail for France. Fulfilling his mission at Nantes, 
Jones set out for Brest, where the fleet of France 
was anchored. Would the Stars and Stripes, the 
symbol of the New Republic across the sea, be 
recognized by salute ? The question was in every 
mind aboard ships, and the answer eagerly awaited 
in the United States. A note couched in the 
diplomatic and elegant terms of which Paul Jones 
was master, was sent by him to the admiral of 
the French fleet, inquiring whether or not the 
flag would receive recognition. "It will, ,, came 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA 43 

back the answer. With that the Ranger glided 
gracefully through the fleet of ships ; and Old Glory, 
in all the radiance of her new birth and coloring, 
waved response from the masthead to her first 
salute from European powers. We, even after 
the long lapse of intervening years, feel still the 
thrill of her exultation. 

Two months later the alliance between America 
and France was signed. The Duchess de Chartres 
became greatly interested in the young naval 
officer ; and, having it in her power to advance 
his interests, she one day at a dinner presented 
him with a fine Louis Quintze watch that had 
belonged to her grandfather, saying, "He hated 
the English; and I love the Americans." 

Paul Jones' response to the gift was as graceful 
as had been the presentation. "May it please 
your Royal Highness, if fortune should favor me 
at sea, I will some day lay an English frigate at 
your feet." Two years later he did this and 
more. 

France had promised Jones a new ship better 
suited to his capabilities than the Ranger. But 
diplomatic affairs between nations move slowly, 



44 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

and in this case the waiting became tedious. 
Jones had exhausted the pleasures of court 
circles to which he had been admitted and he 
longed for the life of the sea. He finally pre- 
ferred his request directly to the king and shortly 
afterward was given, not the great sea monster 
he had been led to expect, but an insignificant 
looking craft called Le Duras. In compliment to 
Dr. Franklin's magazine of the name and in humor- 
ous comment of the ship's appearance, he re- 
named it the Bon Homme Richard, meaning the 
Poor Richard. But with the Poor Richard, as 
with the human form, the spirit which animated 
it was the controlling power; and the valor of 
Paul Jones was to send the name of the Bon Homme 
Richard ringing down through the ages of all 
time. 

As Captain Jones of the Ranger, he had cap- 
tured the Drake, in a big sea fight, and surprised 
England ; and now, as Commodore Jones, he 
was to win distinction as the greatest of naval 
heroes. 

Off the English coast at Flamborough Head, 
he sighted an English fleet. The flagship was 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA 45 

the Serapis, in command of Captain Pearson. 
As the Bon Homme Richard approached the 
Serapis, Captain Pearson raised his glass and 
remarked: "That is probably Paul Jones. If 
so, there is work ahead." 

The salute affectionate between the vessels, 
after the formal hail, was a broadside. Then 
they fought, fought like fiends incarnate, clinched 
in each other's arms, in the death grapple, 
fought without flinching and, be it said, to the 
glory of the American navy and the credit of 
the English. The Bon Homme was on fire and 
sinking. Captain Pearson, noting the situation, 
called, "Have you struck your colors?" 

Above the smoke and din of the conflict, Jones' 
voice answered, "I have just begun to fight, Sir." 

He then lashed his ship to the Serapis, and 
stood, himself, at the guns. 

"Shall we be quitting, Jamie?" he said in 
banter to a Scotchman at his side. 

"There is still a shot in the locker, Sir," replied 
the Scot. 

"I thought," said Captain Pearson afterward, 
"Jones' answer to me meant mere bravado. 



46 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

But I soon perceived that it was the defiance of a 
man desperate enough, if he could not conquer, 
to sink with his ship." 

The Bon Homme Richard's sides were shot 
away ; her prisoners loose ; her decks strewn with 
the dead and dying ; the Alliance, her companion 
ship, had turned traitor and fired into her. When 
the fight seemed well-nigh lost, a well-directed 
blow brought disaster to the Serapis, and she 
hauled down her colors. As Captain Pearson 
surrendered his sword, Commodore Jones re- 
marked, "You have fought heroically, Sir. I 
trust your sovereign may suitably reward you." 
To this Captain Pearson returned no answer. 

The wonderful combat on the sea became the 
talk of all Europe. Paul Jones' name was honored 
wherever spoken. Contrary to court etiquette, 
he was invited to occupy apartments in the palace 
of the Duke and Duchess de Chartres. While he 
was there, a banquet was tendered him. During 
the progress of the dining, he called an attend- 
ant to bring from his apartment a leather case. 
This when it was opened disclosed a sword. 
Turning to the duchess, the commodore asked 




"I HAVE THE HONOR TO SURRENDER TO THE LOVELIEST 
WOMAN THE SWORD SURRENDERED TO ME BY ONE OF THE 
BRAVEST OF MEN.}! 



48 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

if she recalled his promise to lay a frigate at her 
feet one day ? "Your Royal Highness perceives," 
he went on, "the impossibility of keeping my 
promise in kind. The English frigate proved 
to be a 44 on two decks ; the best I can do toward 
keeping my word of two years ago, is to place 
in your hands the sword of the brave officer who 
commanded the English 44. I have the honor to 
surrender to the loveliest woman the sword 
surrendered to me by one of the bravest of men, 
— the sword of Captain Richard Pearson, of his 
Britannic Majesty's late ship the Serapis." 

The Royal Order of Military Merit with the 
title of Chevalier and the gift of a gold-mounted 
sword were conferred upon him by the king of 
France. Upon returning to America, he was 
given the rank of Head of the Navy. 

Remarkable as was the career of Paul Jones, 
the winds did not always set in his favor. Many 
times was his life bark driven through the 
waters of bitter disappointment. But "all that 
he was, and all that he did, and all that he knew, 
was the result of self-help to a degree unexampled 
in the histories of great men." 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SEA 49 

The flag of the Ranger, saluted by the French 
fleet, was transferred by Jones to the Bon Homme 
Richard, and, says he, in his journal as given by 
Buell, "was left flying when we abandoned her; 
the very last vestige mortal ever saw of the Bon 
Homme Richard was the defiant waving of her 
unconquered and unstricken flag as she went 
down. And as I had given them the good old 
ship for their sepulcher, I now bequeathed to my 
immortal dead the Flag they had so desperately 
defended, for their winding sheet." Here was: 
"the only flag," says one, "flying at the bottom 
of the sea, over the only ship that ever sunk in 
victory." * 

And everywhere, 
The slender graceful spars 
Poise aloft in the air 
And at the masthead 
White, blue, and red, 
A flag unfolds, the Stripes and Stars. 
Ah, when the wanderers, lonely, friendless, 

1 In Preble's " History of the Flags of the United States," it 
is given that when the Bon Homme Richard was sinking the flag 
was transferred to the Serapis, and was afterward presented 
by the Marine Committee to James Bayard Stafford of the 
Bon Homme Richard for meritorious services. 



50 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

In foreign harbors shall behold 
That flag unrolled, 
Twill be as a friendly hand 
Stretched out from native land, 
Filling his heart with memories 
Sweet and endless. 

Longfellow. 



WHERE THE STARS AND STRIPES 
UNFURLED 

BURGOYNE was in the enemy's country. 
He was cut off from reinforcements. His 
very efforts to separate the colonies now recoiled 
upon his own armies. He could neither advance 
nor retreat with safety. For two weeks the op- 
posing armies had stood opposite each other 
without fire. In desperation the British general 
now hazarded another battle. After a sustained 
and terrible struggle Burgoyne went down in 
defeat. His best and bravest officers were lost 
and seven hundred of his men were killed. General 
Frazer, beloved by every British soldier and 
respected by those opposed to him, had fallen 
at the hands of one of Morgan's riflemen, of whom 
it was said, they could strike an apple in mid- 
air and shoot out every seed. 

On the American side Benedict Arnold, al- 
though divested of his command, had ridden to 

51 



52 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

the front of his old regiment and became "the 
inspiring genius of the battle." He charged 
right into the British lines and received a severe 
wound. He received also the disapproval of 
General Gates and the reprimand of Congress. 
The battle raged furiously until nightfall, when the 
proud Briton who had boasted "the British 
never retreat" fled under cover of the darkness. 
He gained the heights of Saratoga, where he found 
himself completely hemmed in by the Americans. 
With but three days' rations between his army 
and starvation, he was forced to surrender. While 
he was holding consultation with his officers 
concerning this, a cannon ball passed over the 
table at which they were sitting, and, no doubt, 
hastened their conclusions. 

Colonel Kingston was detailed to confer with the 
American general on articles of capitulation. 
He was conducted blindfolded to General Gates 
and with him arranged the formalities. The 
morning of October 17, seventeen hundred and 
ninety-one British subjects became prisoners of 
war. They marched to Fort Hardy on the banks 
of the Hudson and, in the presence of Generals 



THE STARS AND STRIPES UNFURLED 53 

Morgan, Wilkerson, and Lewis, laid down their 
arms. The eyes of many of the men were 
suffused with tears ; others among them stamped 
upon their muskets in anger. 

The colors had been preserved to the British 
army through the foresight of General Riedesel, 
who had handed them to his wife for safe-keeping. 
To the credit of the victorious Americans, it is 
said, they showed no disrespect to the defeated foe. 
"General Gates/' wrote Lieutenant Ansbury, one 
of the captured officers, " revealed exceeding 
nobleness and generosity toward the captives, 
commanding the troops to wheel round the 
instant arms were grounded. And he, himself, 
drew down the curtains of the carriage in which 
he was sitting, as the troops passed him in re- 
turning/ ' 

For the formal surrender of General Burgoyne 
to General Gates a marquee had been erected near 
the latter's old quarters. To this came the 
British general and staff in full court dress. Gen- 
eral Gates appeared in plain clothes with nothing 
to indicate his rank. As the two generals ad- 
vanced to greet each other, General Burgoyne 



THE STARS AND STRIPES UNFURLED 55 

removed his hat and extending his sword, said, 
"The fortunes of war, General Gates, have made 
me your prisoner." General Gates, not to be out- 
done in polite address, returned the sword and 
replied, "I shall always be ready to bear testi- 
mony that it has not been through any fault of 
your Excellency.' ' 

The generals and their officers then sat down 
to a table improvised of boards laid across barrels 
and dined together most amicably, but on very 
frugal fare. General Burgoyne took occasion to 
compliment the discipline of the American army. 
He then proposed a toast to General Washington. 
General Gates then drank to the health of the king. 
High above the marquee the Stars and Stripes 
waved gloriously in triumph of the day of 
first formal military unfurling. The turning 
point of the war of the Revolution was come, 
this October day, 1777. 



THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE 
October 17, 1777 

BROTHERS, this spot is holy ! Look around ! 
Before us flows our memory's sacred river, 
Whose banks are Freedom's shrines. This grassy 

mound, 
The altar, on whose height the Mighty Giver 
Gave Independence to our country ; when, 
Thanks to its brave, enduring, patient men, 
The invading host was brought to bay and laid 
Beneath "Old Glory's" new-born folds, the blade, 
The brazen thunder-throats, the pomp of war, 
And England's yoke, broken forevermore. 

You, on this spot, — thanks to our gracious God, 
Where last in conscious arrogance it trod, 
Defied, as captives, Burgoyne's conquered horde ; 
Below, their general yielded up his sword ; 
There, to our flag, bowed England's battle-torn ; 
Where now we stand, the United States was born. 
General John Watts De Peyster. 



56 



THE YOKE OF BRITAIN BROKEN 

THE final scene in this stupendous drama 
of American Freedom was enacted in 
Virginia. 

In September, 1781, Washington began a three 
weeks' siege against Yorktown, held by the British 
under Lord Cornwallis. Finding himself there 
completely surrounded by both land and water, 
Cornwallis was forced to surrender. 

Now was the yoke of Great Britain at last 
broken. Seven thousand English and Hessian 
soldiers and eight hundred and forty sailors laid 
down their arms and became prisoners of war. 

The formal ceremony of surrender was to take 
place in an open field the last day of October. 
Thousands of spectators assembled to behold 
the detested Cornwallis surrender the army they 
had hated and feared. 

The Americans, commanded by General Wash- 
ington in full uniform, and the French troops, 

57 



58 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

under Count Rochambeau, were drawn up in two 
lines. At length a splendid charger issued through 
the gate, bearing not the hated Cornwallis as 
expected, but General O'Hara. So overcome was 
Lord Cornwallis with the consciousness of his 
defeat by the "raw Americans/ ' that, feigning 
illness, he refused to appear. 

The British troops in new uniforms, in striking 
contrast to the worn and faded garb of the colo- 
nists, followed the officer with colors furled. Com- 
ing opposite General Washington, O'Hara saluted 
and presented the sword of Cornwallis. A tense 
silence pervaded the assembly. General Washing- 
ton motioned that the sword be given to General 
Lincoln. Apparently forgetful of the indignities 
heaped upon him by the British at Charleston, 
the latter returned the sword to General O'Hara, 
remarking as he did so, "Kindly return it to his 
Lordship, Sir." 

"Ground arms" came the order from the 
British officers. The troops complied sullenly; 
the humiliation felt by them in their defeat was 
everywhere apparent. 

The next day the conquered army marched out 



THE YOKE OF BRITAIN BROKEN 59 

of Yorktown between the American and French 
troops. Their fifers, with a brave show of humor, 
played, "The World's turned Upside Down." 
Washington had directed his soldiers to show no 
disrespect nor unkindness to the defeated troops. 
But the remembrance of "Yankee Doodle," as 
played by the Britons in their times of conquest, 
in taunting derision of the Americans, proved 
too much for the latter to endure without return, 
when supreme occasion such as this offered. To 
the strains of "Yankee Doodle Do," from Ameri- 
can fifes, Lord Cornwallis and his army bade 
adieu to the scenes wherein they had once marched 
as conquerors. 

In thanksgiving to God was voiced the nation's 
exultation. Congress adjourned the sessions and 
the members repaired to church to give thanks; 
business was suspended in all places. Through- 
out the land the voice of the people was raised 
in a mighty chorus of prayer and praise to the 
Almighty. 



YORKTOWN 

17^ ROM Yorktown's ruins, ranked and still, 
' Two lines stretch far o'er vale and hill : 
Who curbs his steed at head of one ? 
Hark ! the low murmur : Washington ! 
Who bends his keen, approving glance 
Where down the gorgeous line of France 
Shine knightly star and plume of snow ? 
Thou too art victor, Rochambeau ! 

The earth which bears this calm array 
Shook with the war-charge yesterday ; 
Plowed deep with hurrying hoof and wheel, 
Shot down and bladed thick with steel ; 
October's clear and noonday sun 
Paled in the breath-smoke of the gun ; 
And down night's double blackness fell, 
Like a dropped star, the blazing shell. 

Now all is hushed : th gleaming lines 
Stand moveless as the neighboring pines ; 
While through them, sullen, grim, and slow, 
The conquered hosts of England go ; 
60 



YORKTOWN 61 

O'Hara's brow belies his dress, 
Gay Tarleton's troops ride bannerless ; 
Shout from the fired and wasted homes, 
Thy scourge, Virginia, captive comes ! 

Nor thou alone : with one glad voice 
Let all thy sister States rejoice : 
Let Freedom, in whatever clime 
She waits with sleepless eye her time, 
Shouting from cave and mountain wood 
Make glad her desert solitude, 
While they who hunt her, quail with fear ; 
The New World's chain lies broken here ! 

Whittier. 



FROM THE OTHER SIDE 

(1812) 

THE year 1812 witnessed our second war 
with Great Britain. In an effort to pre- 
vent emigration from her shores England claimed 
the right to seize any of her subjects upon any 
vessel of the high seas. America denied her 
right to do this on American ships. Disagree- 
ment broke into open rupture. War with the 
mother country was again declared. 

The doughty American seamen would not wait 
for attack upon them, but went forth aggressively 
against the squadron of the British. Oddly 
enough, considering the condition of the poorly 
equipped navy, they were remarkably successful 
and captured more than two hundred and fifty 
prizes. The following year, however, the British 
gained the ascendency, and in 1814 came in with 
sea force and land force and sacked and burned 

62 



FROM THE OTHER SIDE 63 

the Capitol at Washington and all public build- 
ings except the patent office. 

They then proceeded against Baltimore. The 
land troops were almost in sight of the city of their 
desires, when they were halted and held in check 
by American troops under General Sticker, whose 
name, it may be said, meant as it sounded, and 
who effectually prevented their further advance. 
But the fleet on the waters sailed into the bay of 
Baltimore and up to Fort McHenry at the mouth 
of the Patapsco River, in the determination to 
bombard the fortress and compel entrance to the 
city in that way. The British admiral had 
boasted the fort would fall to his hand an easy 
prey. 

Prior to this, Dr. William Beane, a citizen of 
Baltimore and a non-combatant, had been cap- 
tured at Marlboro and was held a prisoner on 
one of the vessels of the British fleet. To secure 
his release, Francis Scott Key and John Skinner 
set out from Baltimore on the ship Minden 
flying a flag of truce. The British admiral 
received them kindly and released Dr. Beane; 
but detained the three on board ship pending 




From sunrise to sunset they watched the shot and 
shell poured into the fort and noted with infinite 
joy that the flag still flew. 



FROM THE OTHER SIDE 65 

the bombardment of the fort, lest in their return 
to land the intentions of the British might be 
frustrated. 

Thus from the side of the enemy they were 
constrained to witness the efforts of destruction 
urged against the protecting fortress of their own 
city. From sunrise to sunset they watched the 
shot and shell poured into the fort and noted 
with infinite joy that the flag still flew. Through 
the glare of the artillery, as the night advanced, 
they caught now and then the gleam of the flag 
still flying. Would it be there at another sun- 
rise? Who could tell! Suddenly the cannonad- 
ing ceased. The British, despairing of carrying the 
fort, abandoned the project. In the emotion of 
the hour and inspiration born of the victory, Key 
composed the immortal lines now become our 
national anthem, " The Star-Spangled Banner." 

The flag is preserved in the museum of Wash- 
ington and is distinctive in having fifteen stripes 
and fifteen stars, one of the very few national flags 
with this number. 



THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 

OH, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, 
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's 

last gleaming ; 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thro' the 

perilous fight 
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly 

streaming ? 
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in 

air, 
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still 

there ; 
Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? 

On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the 
deep, 

Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence re- 
poses, 

What is that which the breeze o'er the towering 
steep, 

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? 

66 



THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 67 

Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, 
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream ; 
'Tis the star-spangled banner; oh, long may it 

wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ! 

And where is that land who so vauntingly swore 
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion 
A home and a country should leave us no more ? 
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' 

pollution. 
No refuge could save the hireling and slave 
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave ; 
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Oh ! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand 
Between their loved homes and wild war's desola- 
tion; 
Blest with vict'ry and peace may the Heaven- 
rescued land 
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a 

nation. 
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, 
And this be our motto : "In God is our trust !" 
And the star-spangled banner n triumph shall wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ! 

Francis Scott Key. 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CRESCENT CITY 

UPON every recurrence of January the 
eighth, the city of New Orleans dons gala 
attire and shouts herself hoarse with rejoicing. 
She chants the Te Deum in her Cathedrals; 
and lays wreaths of immortelles and garlands of 
roses and sweet-smelling shrubs upon the monu- 
ment of Andrew Jackson in Jackson Square. 

"The Saviour of New Orleans," the inhabitants 
called Jackson in the exuberance of their grati- 
tude for his defense of the city, and their deliver- 
ance from threatened peril, that fateful day of 
January, 1815. From capture and pillage and 
divers evil things he saved her, and the Crescent 
City has not forgotten. 

Neither indeed has the nation become unmind- 
ful of his great achievement, but upon each suc- 
ceeding anniversary of the battle of New Orleans 
— that remarkable battle that gloriously ended 
the War of 1812, and restored the national pride 

68 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CRESCENT CITY 69 

and honor so sorely wounded by the fall of Wash- 
ington — ■ celebrates the event in the chief cities 
of the United States. 

During our second clash of arms with Eng- 
land, the Creek War, wherein the red man met 
his doom, brought Jackson's name into prom- 
inence. At one bound, as it were, he sprang 
from comparative obscurity into renown. 

In 1814 he was appointed a major general in 
the United States army, and established his head- 
quarters at Mobile. He repulsed the English 
at Fort Bowyer, on Mobile Point, and awaited 
orders from Washington to attack them at 
Pensacola, where, through the sympathy of the 
Spaniards who were then in possession of the 
Florida peninsula, they had their base of opera- 
tions. 

Receiving no orders from Washington, he be- 
came impatient of delay, and upon his own re- 
sponsibility marched his troops against Pensacola 
and put the British to flight. "This," says 
Sumner, "was the second great step in the war in 
the Southwest." 

Washington had been captured and her princi- 



70 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

pal public buildings burned, and New Orleans, 
the Crescent City, would now, it was thought, 
be the next point of attack by the British. 

To New Orleans, therefore, "to defend a de- 
fenseless city, which had neither fleets nor forts, 
means nor men," came Jackson. 

His entrance into the city was quiet and un- 
ostentatious and so devoid of the pomp and 
pageantry of a victorious general as to cause 
question in the minds of some as to whether or 
not this was the man expected. His dress was 
plain in the extreme, and bore upon it no insignia 
of rank ; yet those there were, of insight, who saw 
in his every aspect the man of power. 

From eye and posture and gesture emanated a 
certain indefinable force that attracted men to 
him, and created in them an enthusiasm for his 
cause. Old and young who came under his 
influence were ready to do his bidding. 

To the terrified women and children of New 
Orleans who appealed to him for protection from 
the enemy, he replied : — 

"The British shall not enter the city except 
over my dead body." 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CRESCENT CITY 71 

His words and his presence inspired confidence. 
And when his flag was run up above his head- 
quarters in Royal Street a sense of security was 
felt by the inhabitants. 

The conditions about him, however, were 
far from promising, and to a less determined 
spirit than that of Jackson would have been 
appalling. 

The troops under him were few in number and 
poorly equipped for battle. The Crescent City 
was ill equipped for defense. The governor 
and the Legislature were at loggerheads. 

As was his way in a crisis, General Jackson took 
matters into his own hands. 

He placed the city under martial law and 
made every man a sailor or a soldier compelled 
to the restrictions and the rules governing the 
army. 

He was aware that his action was open to severe 
censure, but in the face of the object to be at- 
tained he held this as of little consequence. 

While engaged in examining a situation for a 
fortification in one direction, the British effected 
a landing in another. They had captured the 



72 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

American flotilla guarding the entrance to Lake 
Borgne and were making ready to advance upon 
the city. 

This information brought consternation to the 
inhabitants but not to the indomitable Jackson. 
Obstacles to him were but objects to be overcome. 
He swung his troops into line and went out to 
meet the enemy. The advance was checked 
by a sharp engagement with little loss to either 
side. 

He then set the little schooner Carolina, 
in the Mississippi, to bombarding the levee where 
the British gunners had taken refuge. With 
her guns continuously roaring she kept the Brit- 
ishers at bay for three whole days, when she suc- 
cumbed to their heavy fire and exploded. Her 
entire crew escaped with the exception of one 
man killed and six wounded. 

On the field of Chalmette, a few miles below 
New Orleans, the opposing armies threw up 
intrenchments from the same soft ooze and mud, 
so close they now stood to each other. From an 
upper room of the McCarte mansion house — 
the home of a wealthy Creole — General Jackson 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CRESCENT CITY 73 

surveyed the operations of the enemy; and 
directed the movements of his own troops. 

December the 28th an advance was made by 
the British on the American lines but without 
significant results. On New Year's Day another 
attack was made. 

In the interim between these assaults went 
out an order from General Jackson to Governor 
Claiborne that involved the general for years there- 
after in legal complications with the Louisiana 
Legislature. News was borne to General Jackson 
on the field that the Legislature was preparing 
to capitulate New Orleans in the belief that the 
city would be captured. 

"Tell Claiborne/' said the irate Jackson, "to 
blow them up." 

Later, he wrote to Governor Claiborne, in case 
the report was true, to place a guard at the 
door of the legislative hall and keep the members 
in it ; where they could, he satirically remarked 
to a friend, have full time to make some whole- 
some laws for the State without distraction from 
outside matters. 

Through mistake in the execution of the order, 



74 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

the enraged lawmakers were kept outside of the 
assembly hall instead of in it, and the session was 
broken up. 

At break of dawn that memorable day of January 
8th, 1815, the British were prepared to attack. 

Jackson and his valorous volunteers were 
ready. A pygmy force were they against a mighty 
one ! Raw recruits contending against the trained 
veterans of Wellington's army, led by the gallant 
Packenham ! 

The signal rocket went up. 

The long red lines advanced over the field. 

But to what a fate ! 

" Don't shoot till you can see the whites of their 
eyes !" — Jackson had instructed. 

"Fire!" 

When the smoke cleared, British soldiers, dead 
and dying, thickly strewed the ground. 

Intrenched behind their barricades of cotton 
bales and sand and mud, the Americans were 
scarcely touched. 

The murderous fire went on. 

The British columns reeled and broke. 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CRESCENT CITY 75 

General Packenham heroically waved his troops 
forward and fell, wounded to death. 

General Gibbs, second in command, was struck 
down. 

General Keane was disabled. 

The leaders were fallen! The troops were 
disordered. 

In the distance the red lines receded. 

Jackson had won. 

In less than thirty minutes the unequal conflict 
had ended, save in the silencing of the guns, 
which required two hours to accomplish. 

Never in the annals of history has such a victory 
been recorded. 

The loss to the English was two thousand 
killed, wounded, and captured. The American 
loss was but eight killed and thirteen wounded. 

General Jackson marched his victorious troops 
into New Orleans, where he was received with the 
wildest enthusiasm. 

The whole country applauded and rejoiced. 

Andrew Jackson had become the Hero of the 
Nation. 



76 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

At Ghent, two weeks before the battle, the 
Treaty of Peace between England and the United 
States had been signed ; but the ship bearing the 
news had not then reached this country. 

But — Jackson had finished the war — had 
"finished the war in Glory !" 



THE CIVIL WAR 

(1861) 

THE War between the States in 1861 was 
one of the most terrible conflicts known to 
modern times. 

Many causes led up to it, chief among which 
was a difference in the interpretation of the 
Constitution by the people of the North and of 
the South. The slavery question was also a 
point of dispute; and several minor causes 
brought about a dissension in the two sections 
that resulted in the gigantic struggle of friend 
against friend, brother against brother, father 
against son. 

The early engagements of the contending forces 
were ones of signal victory to the South. The 
disunion of the nation was so seriously threatened 
as to bring grave concern to the Federal govern- 
ment. As the weeks and months wore away, 

77 



78 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

victory perched above the banner of the Federals, 
and the climax was reached in the surrender of 
General Lee at Appomattox, after four years of 
deadly strife. 

Both sides fought valiantly. Both won; in 
that the glory of the Republic was to stand 
henceforth supreme among foreign nations, the 
greatness of the combatants to receive a recogni- 
tion never to be effaced. 

Through a perspective of fifty years of peace, 
the heroism displayed on either field by those 
engaged therein is, to the most partisan observer, 
silhouetted upon the mental vision in glowing 
lines of light. Justly we term it "Our most 
Heroic Period." 

Not the least remarkable of this aftermath, 
transcending all experiences of other nations, is 
the brotherhood, the kindly feeling of sympathy 
and understanding, that after the passage of 
but half a century now binds the once warring 
sections in indissoluble bonds of unity. 



CHARLESTON 

CALM as that second summer which precedes 
The first fall of the snow, 
In the broad sunlight of heroic deeds, 
The city bides the foe. 

As yet, behind their ramparts, stern and proud, 

Her bolted thunders sleep, — 
Dark Sumter, like a battlemented cloud, 

Looms o'er the solemn deep. 

No Calpe frowns from lofty cliff or scaur 

To guard the holy strand ; 
But Moultrie holds in leash her dogs of war 

Above the level sand. 

And down the dunes a thousand guns lie couched, 

Unseen, beside the flood, — 
Like tigers in some Orient jungle crouched, 

That wait and watch for blood. 

Meanwhile, through streets still echoing with trade, 

Walk grave and thoughtful men, 
Whose hands may one day wield the patriot's blade 

As lightly as the pen. 
79 



80 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

And maidens, with such eyes as would grow dim, 

Over a bleeding hound, 
Seem each one to have caught the strength of him 

Whose sword she sadly bound. 

Thus girt without and garrisoned at home, 

Day patient following day, 
Old Charleston looks from roof and spire and dome, 

Across her tranquil bay. 

Ships, through a hundred foes, from Saxon lands 

And spicy Indian ports, 
Bring Saxon steel and iron to her hands, 

And summer to her courts. 

But still, along yon dim Atlantic line, 

The only hostile smoke 
Creeps like a harmless mist above the brine, 

From some frail floating oak. 

Shall the spring dawn, and she, still clad in smiles, 

And with an unscathed brow, 
Rest in the strong arms of her palm-crowned isles, 

As fair and free as now 

We know not ; in the temple of the Fates 

God has inscribed her doom : 
And, all untroubled in her faith, she waits 

The triumph or the tomb. 

Henry Timrod. 



FREDERICKSBURG 
Dec. 13, 1862 

THE increasing moonlight drifts across my bed, 
And on the church-yard by the road, I know 

It falls as white and noiselessly as snow. 
'Twas such a night two weary summers fled ; 
The stars, as now, were waning overhead. 

Listen ! Again the shrill-lipped bugles blow 

Where the swift currents of the river flow 
Past Fredericksburg : far off the heavens are red 

With sudden conflagration : on yon height, 
Linstock in hand, the gunners hold their breath : 

A signal-rocket pierces the dense night, 
Flings its spent stars upon the town beneath : 

Hark ! the artillery massing on the right, 
Hark ! the black squadrons wheeling down to Death ! 
Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 



81 



CIVIL WAR 1 

RIFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot 
Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette ; 
Ring me a ball in the glittering spot 

That shines on his breast like an amulet!" 

" Ah, Captain ! here goes for a fine-drawn bead, 
There's music around when my barrel's in tune !" 

Crack ! went the rifle, the messenger sped, 
And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon. 

"Now, rifleman, steal through the bushes, and snatch 
From your victim some trinket to handsel first 
blood ; 

A button, a loop, or that luminous patch 

That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud !" 

"0, Captain ! I staggered, and sunk on my track, 
When I gazed on the face of that fallen vidette, 

For he looked so like you, as he lay on his back, 
That my heart rose upon me, and masters me yet." 

1 The above has been sometimes entitled "The Fancy 
Shot." It appeared first in a London weekly and is commonly 
attributed to Charles Dawson Shanley, who died in the late 
seventies. 

82 



CIVIL WAR 83 

"But I snatched off the trinket, — this locket of 
gold; 

An inch from the center my lead broke its way, 
Scarce grazing the picture, so fair to behold, 

Of a beautiful lady in bridal array." 

"Ha ! Rifleman, fling me the locket ! — 'tis she, 
My brother's young bride, and the fallen dragoon 

Was her husband — Hush ! soldier, 'twas Heaven's 
decree, 
We must bury him there, by the light of the moon ! 

"But hark ! the far bugles their warnings unite ; 

War is a virtue, — weakness a sin ; 
There's a lurking and loping around us to-night ; 

Load again, rifleman, keep your hand in !" 

Charles Dawson Shanley. 



'ROUND SHILOH CHURCH 

WITHIN Shiloh Church that fateful day 
of 1862, no sound of song or praise was 
heard. But all without the leaden missiles rang 
and sang in chorus of red death. Green blades 
of grass, dew-tipped, sprang up to greet the sun 
that April morn, but ere night fell were bowed to 
earth with weight of human blood. Ne'er before 
had little church looked out on such a scene. 
Ten thousand homes and hearts of North and 
South were there made desolate; and twice ten 
thousand men gave up their lives. The world 
looked on and wondered. 

Albert Sidney Johnston, the hero of three 
wars, had staked his life and cause that April 
day, for victory or defeat. 

He met — both. 

It was recognized by both the Northern and 
Southern armies that Johnston was a formidable 
antagonist. That he was a man of most magnetic 
personality as well as a brave officer. 

84 



'ROUND SHILOH CHURCH 85 

Where he led men followed. 

The Black Hawk War made his name familiar 
throughout the country. In the War with Mexico 
he won distinction. 

As he reviewed his troops at Shiloh, he be- 
held on every side his friends of other days, 
and men who had served under him on other 
fields. 

When the War between the States came on, 
Johnston was a brigadier general in the United 
States Army ; and although he was offered any 
position he might desire with the Federal govern- 
ment, he resigned to cast his lot with the South, 
and against the land of his ancestry, for he was a 
son of Connecticut. Texas had been his home, 
and to the Lone Star State he felt his allegiance 
due. 

Disappointment, as pertained to his life ambi- 
tions, had often before waited upon his foot- 
steps when the thing desired seemed ready to 
his grasp. Yet, seeing his duty clearly, he 
did it. 

To his sister by marriage, when she, in surprise 
at his action in resigning, wrote him in California, 



86 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

where he was then stationed, he replied that he 
was deeply sensible of the "calamitious condition' ' 
of the country ; and that whatever his part there- 
after regarding it, he congratulated himself that 
no act of his had aided in bringing it about ; that 
the adjustment of the difficulties by the sword 
was not in his judgment the remedy. 

Secession was to him a grievous thing. 

Arriving at Richmond from the West, General 
Johnston was given the command of the Western 
Department of the Confederacy. 

From September to February, 1862, he held the 
line against heavy odds at Bowling Green, Ky., 
when he retreated to Corinth, Miss., where he 
assembled his entire army and attacked Grant 
at Shiloh Church near Pittsburg Landing, 
Tenn. 

In the flush tide of a great victory, he was 
struck by a Minie ball and expired in a few 
moments. 

He rode a magnificent black animal called 
" Fire-eater." On horseback General Johnston 
appeared to distinct advantage. The masterly 
manner in which he sat his horse attracted the 



'ROUND SHILOH CHURCH 87 

attention of the commander in chief of the army, 
Thomas J. Rusk, during the Texan Revolution, 
and procured him the appointment of adjutant 
general over several eager aspirants for the 
position. 

As he passed along the lines to the front of the 
troops at Shiloh, he raised his hat and cried out, 

"I will lead you!" 

To this the men responded with a mighty cheer 
and quickened movement, albeit they knew he 
was leading many of them to death. 

Hard up the slopes they pressed. 

Nor shot, nor shell, nor falling men deterred 
them. 

The summit was reached. The Federals were 
in retreat. A little apart from the others, a fine 
target for the deadly marksman, the figure of 
General Johnston on " Fire-eater" was plainly 
visible. 

His clothing was torn in places. His boot sole 
was slashed by a ball, but he himself was unin- 
jured. 

In his countenance was reflected a satisfaction 
of the day's results. 




From the last line of the retreating Federals a bullet 
whistled back, whistled back and cut him down. 



'ROUND SHILOH CHURCH 89 

The wisdom of his decisions had been proven; 
his judgment justified. 

From the last line of the retreating Federals a 
bullet whistled back, whistled back and cut him 
down, did its fatal work in the very moment in 
which he felt the conviction that success now 
lay with the Confederate cause. 

His death seemed for a time to paralyze the 
further efforts of his troops, to whom his presence 
had been a continual inspiration. 

General Beauregard took command. 

Night fell and the battle was stayed. 

The Federals had been driven to the banks of 
the Tennessee River, where the gunboats afforded 
but meager protection. 

From Nashville, General Buell arrived before 
daybreak with the needed reinforcements. Lew 
Wallace came in. Grant assumed the offensive; 
and the afternoon of the second day of the hard- 
fought contest the final victory swept to the 
Federals. 

What would have been the result to the Con- 
federate cause had the great leader not fallen 
that first day, who can say ? 



90 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

"In his fall, the great pillar of the Southern 
Confederacy was crushed/' says Jefferson Davis 
in his Rise and Fall of the Confederate Govern- 
ment, "and beneath its fragments the best hope 
of the Southland lay buried." 






ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON 

I HEAR again the tread of war go thundering 
through the land, 
And Puritan and Cavalier are clinching neck and 

hand, 
Round Shiloh church the furious foes have met to 

thrust and slay, 
Where erst the peaceful sons of Christ were wont to 
kneel and pray. 

The wrestling of the ages shakes the hills of Tennessee 
With all their echoing mounts athrob with war's wild 

minstrelsy ; 
A galaxy of stars new-born around the shield of Mars 
And set against the Stars and Stripes the flashing 

Stars and Bars. 

Twas Albert Sidney Johnston led the columns of the 

Gray, 
Like Hector on the plains of Troy his presence fired 

the fray ; 
And dashing horse and gleaming sword spake out his 

royal will 
As on the slopes of Shiloh field the blasts of war blew 

shrill. 

91 



92 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

"Down with the base invaders," the Gray shout 

forth the cry, 
" Death to presumptuous rebels," the Blue ring out 

reply ; 
All day the conflict rages and yet again all day, 
Though Grant is on the Union side he cannot stem 

nor stay. 

They are a royal race of men, these brothers face to 

face, 
Their fury speaking through their guns, their frenzy 

in their pace ; 
The sweeping onset of the Gray bears down the sturdy 

Blue, 
Though Sherman and his legions are heroes through 

and through. 

Though Prentiss and his gallant men are forcing 

scaur and crag, 
They fall like sheaves before the scythes of Hardee 

and of Bragg ; 
Ah, who shall tell the victor's tale when all the strife 

is past, 
When, man and man, in one great mold, the men 

who strive are cast ? 

As when the Trojan hero came from that fair city's 

gates, 
With tossing mane and flaming crest to scorn the 

scowling fates, 



ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON 93 

His legions gather round him and madly charge and 

cheer, 
And fill besieging armies with wild disheveled fear; 

Then bares his breast unto the dart the daring 

spearsman sends, 
And dying hears his cheering foes, the wailing of his 

friends, • 

So Albert Sidney Johnston, the chief of belt and scar, 
Lay down to die at Shiloh and turned the scales of 

war. 

Now five and twenty years are gone, and lo, to-day 

they come, 
The Blue and Gray in proud array with throbbing 

fife and drum ; 
But not as rivals, not as foes, as brothers reconciled ; 
To twine love's fragrant roses where the thorns of 

hate grew wild ; 

Aye, five and twenty years, and lo, the manhood of 

the South 
Has held its valor staunch and strong as at the 

cannon's mouth, 
With patient heart and silent tongue has kept its 

true parole, 
And in the conquests born of peace has crowned its 

battle roll. 



94 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

But ever while we sing of war, of courage tried and 

true, 
Of heroes wed to gallant deeds, or be it Gray or Blue, 
Then Albert Sidney Johnston's name shall flash 

before our sight 
Like some resplendent meteor across the somber 

night. 

America, thy sons are knit with sinews wrought of 

steel, 
They will not bend, they will not break, beneath the 

tyrant's heel ; 
But in the white-hot flame of love, to silken cobwebs 

spun, 
They whirl the engines of the world, all keeping time 

as one. 

To-day they stand abreast and strong, who stood as 

foes of yore, 
The world leaps up to bless their feet, heaven scatters 

blessings o'er ; 
Their robes are wrought of gleaming gold, their 

wings are freedom's own, 
The trampling of their conquering hosts shakes 

pinnacle and throne. 

Oh, veterans of the Blue and Gray who fought on 

Shiloh field, 
The purposes of God are true, His judgment stands 

revealed ; 



ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON 95 

The pangs of war have rent the veil, and lo, His high 

decree : 
One heart, one hope, one destiny, one flag from sea 

to sea. 

Kate Brownlee Sherwood. 



OLD GLORY AT SHILOH 

SPRING on the Tennessee; April — and flowers 
Bloom on its banks ; the anemones white 
In clusters of stars where the green holly towers 

O'er bellworts, like butterflies hov'ring in flight. 
The ground ivy tips its blue lips to the laurel, 

And covers the banks of the water-swept bars 
With a background of blue, in which the red sorrel 
Are stripes where the pale corydalis are stars. 

Red, white and blue ! spring, did you send it, 
And Flowers, did'st dream it for brothers to rend it ? 

Spring on the Tennessee ; Sabbath — and morning 

Breaks with a bird note that pulses along ; 
A melody sobs in the heart of its dawning — 

The pain that foreshadows the birth of a song. 
Art thou a flecking, brave Bluebird, of sky light, 

Or the sough of a minor wove into a beam ? 
Oh, Hermit Thrush, Hermit Thrush, thou of the eye 
bright, 

Bird, or the spirit of song in a dream? 

"Our country — our country!" Why, birds, do 

you sing it ? 
And, woodland, why held you the echo, to ring it ? 
96 



OLD GLORY AT SHILOH 97 

Spring on the Tennessee ; hark, Bluebird, listen ! 

Was that a bugle note far up the bend, 
Where the murk waters flush and the white bars 
glisten, 
Or dove cooing dove into love notes that blend ? 
And Wood Thrush, sweet, tell me, — that throbbing 
and humming, 
Is it march at the double quick or wild bees that 
hum? 
And that rumble that shakes like an earthquake 
coming — 
Tell me, Hermit Thrush, thunder or drum ? 

birds, you must fly from the home that God gave 

you! 
flowers, you must die 'neath the foot that would 

save you ! 

Out from the wood with the morning mist o'er it 
A gray line sweeps like a scythe of fire, 

And it burns the stubble of blue before it, — 

(How their bugles ring and their cannon roar it !) 

In Dixie land we'll take our stand, 
And live and die in Dixie ! 

Out from the deep wood clearer and nigher, 
The gray lines roll, and the blue lines reel 

Back on the river — their dead are piled higher 
Than the muzzle of muskets thund'ring their peal : 



98 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

In Dixie land we'll take our stand, 
And live and die for Dixie ! 

Noon on the Tennessee ; backward, still driven 
The blue lines reel, and the ranks of the gray 

Flash out with a fierceness that light up the heavens, 
When the thunders of night meet the lightnings of 
day. 

Noon and past noon — and this is the story 

Of the flag that fell not, and they call it Old Glory : 

It flapped in the air, it flashed with the blare 

Of the bugles so shrill and so true, 
It faced quick about and steadied the rout 

And halted the lines of blue. 
And the boom-boom-boom of the maddened guns 

Roared round it thick and fast, 
And dead-dead-dead sang the learing lead 

Like hail in the sheeted blast, 
And up and around it, surge and swell, 

Rose the victor waves of the rebel yell, 
And Grant's grim army staggered, but stood, 
With backs to the river and dyed it with blood 

In the shuttle of thunder and drum ; 
And they cheered as it went to the front of the 

fray 
And turned the tide at the sunset of day, 

And they whispered : Buell is come ! 



OLD GLORY AT SHILOH 99 

Spring on the Tennessee ; April — and flowers 

Bloom on its banks ; the anemones white 
In clusters of stars where the green holly towers 

O'er bellworts, like butterflies hov'ring in flight. 
And the ground ivy tips its blue lips to the laurel 

And covers the banks and the water-swept bars 
With a background of blue, in which the red sorrel 

Are stripes where the pale corydalis are stars. 

Red, white, and blue — it tells its own story — 
But, Spring, Who made it and named it Old 
Glory! 

John Trotwood Moore. 



THE FLAG OF THE CUMBERLAND 

THE Confederate frigate, Merrimac, newly 
arisen from her briny bath in the Norfolk 
Navy Yards, with her sides new coated in an 
almost impenetrable mail of iron and rechristened 
the Virginia, steamed slowly down the river 
May 8th, 1862, to Newport News, where the 
Cumberland, the Congress, and the Minnesota 
of the Union fleet lay at anchor. 

The crews of the latter vessels were taking life 
leisurely that day, and were indulging in various 
pastimes beloved of seamen. The Merrimac as 
she hove in sight did not look especially bellig- 
erent. Indeed she appeared "like a house 
submerged to the eaves and borne onward by 
the flood." 

Notwithstanding her somewhat droll appear- 
ance, the Merrimac had herself well in control 
and was not on a cruise of pleasure bent, as the 
navies well knew. 

100 



THE FLAG OF THE CUMBERLAND 101 

With steady determination she came on, until 
within easy distance of the Congress, a vessel which 
gave her greeting with a shot from one of her stern 
guns, and received in response a shower of grape. 

Broadsides were then exchanged, resulting in 
fearful slaughter to the crew of the Congress and 
damage to the guns. An officer of the Congress 
was a favorite brother of Captain Buchanan of 
the Merrimac. But such relation effected naught 
in the exigencies of war. 

Before the Congress could recover herself, the 
Merrimac headed for the Cumberland. The fires 
of the Cumberland, as she approached, had no 
effect upon her armored sides. 

Into the Cumberland she ran her powerful iron 
prow, crashing in her timbers and strewing her 
decks with the maimed, the dead, and dying. 

Again she turned her attention to the Congress, 
remembering also the frigate Minnesota with 
her fiery baptisms. Upon the Congress she soon 
forced a surrender. The Minnesota found refuge 
in flight. 

Her work upon the Cumberland was complete. 
And albeit the vessel had been rammed and was 




And the flag, as if defying the fate that threatened 
its destruction, still flew above the masthead. 



THE FLAG OF THE CUMBERLAND 103 

sinking, her men ascended to the spar deck and 
fought till the waters engulfed them. The last 
shot was fired from a gun half submerged in the 
water. 

As the ship settled to the bottom she careened 
slightly and then righted herself; and the flag, 
as if defying the fate that threatened its destruc- 
tion, still flew above the masthead. 

There, close to the waves — her colors almost 
touching the water — the captain, who was 
absent from his ship, found his flag upon his 
return. A harbinger as it proved of the issue 
that was to be. 



THE CUMBERLAND 

AT anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 
On board of the Cumberland, sloop of war ; 
And at times from the fortress across the bay 
The alarum of drums swept past, 
Or a bugle blast 
From the camp on the shore. 

Then far away to the south uprose 
A little feather of snow-white smoke, 
And we knew that the iron ship of our foes 
Was steadily steering its course 

To try the force 

Of our ribs of oak. 

Down upon us heavily runs, 
Silent and sullen, the floating fort ; 
Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns, 
And leaps the terrible death, 

With fiery breath, 

From each open port. 
104 



THE CUMBERLAND 105 

We are not idle, but send her straight 
Defiance back in a fall broadside ! 
As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, 
Rebounds our heavier hail 

From each iron scale 

Of the monster's hide. 

"Strike your flag !" the rebel cries, 
In his arrogant old plantation strain. 
"Never !" our gallant Morris replies; 
"It is better to sink than to yield !" 

And the whole air pealed 

With the cheers of our men. 

Then, like a kraken huge and black, 
She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp ! 
Down went the Cumberland all awrack, 
With a sudden shudder of death, 

And the cannon's breath 

For her dying gasp. 

Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay, 
Still floated our flag at the mainmast head 
Lord, how beautiful was Thy day ! 
Every waft of the air 

Was a whisper of prayer, 

Or a dirge for the dead. 



106 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Ho ! brave hearts that went down in the seas ! 
Ye are at peace in the troubled stream ; 
Ho ! brave land ! with hearts like these, 
Thy flag, that is rent in twain, 

Shall be one again, 

And without a seam ! 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 



THE MONITOR 

TWO old Spanish ships had, prior to the sink- 
ing of the Cumberland, met a like fate at the 
hands of the Confederates ; and the signal success 
of the Merrimac now augured well for the break 
of the blockade. 

The South was greatly elated. The North 
was disquieted. 

Twenty-four hours later the trend of events 
was changed. 

There appeared in Hampton Roads a strange 
new craft, called the Monitor. It was unlike any 
vessel before seen, having a revolving round 
tower of iron, that enabled the gunners to train 
the guns on the enemy continuously, without 
regard to the position of the ship. The hull had 
an "overhang/' a projection constructed of iron 
and wood, as a protection against rams. 

The inventor and builder of this little giant 
was John Ericsson. 

107 



108 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

His, 

" The master mind that wrought, 
With iron hand, this iron thought. 
Strength and safety with speed combined/ ' 

The vessel had been launched in less than a 
hundred days after the laying of the keel, in an 
effort of the Federal government to have her in 
service before the completion of the Merrimac 
(the Virginia.) 

The new warship attracted the attention of 
the navies of Europe and brought about a change 
in the construction of war vessels. 

As if indignant at the actions of the Merrimac 
in preceding her, and in attacking the Union fleet, 
the Monitor bore down upon her like some live 
thing bent upon retribution, and at once engaged 
her in a terrific encounter. 

With the hope born of confidence in the strength 
of the Confederate ironclad, and her ability to 
overpower completely the Union flotilla, boats 
filled with sight-seers had gone out from Norfolk, 
but with the first terrible onset of the armored 
combatants speedily made their way back to 
safety. 



THE MONITOR 109 

In this battle of the waters two old Naval 
Academy comrades fought on opposite sides, 
Lieutenant Green and Lieutenant Butt, both 
well-known names. 

For five long awful hours the strength of the 
two iron monsters was pitted against each other 
for supremacy on the seas, without apparent 
serious injury to either vessel. 

At last the Merrimac ended the gigantic contest 
by turning her prow and withdrawing to Norfolk. 



THE CRUISE OF THE MONITOR 
Hampton Roads, Virginia, March 9, 1862 

OUT of a Northern city's bay, 
'Neath lowering clouds, one bleak March day, 
Glided a craft, — the like I ween, 
On ocean's crest was never seen 
Since Noah's float, 
That ancient boat, 
Could o'er a conquered deluge gloat. 

No raking masts, with clouds of sail, 
Bent to the breeze or braved the gale ; 
No towering chimney's wreaths of smoke 
Betrayed the mighty engine's stroke ; 

But low and dark, 

Like the crafty shark, 
Moved in the waters this novel bark. 

The fishers stared as the flitting sprite 
Passed their huts in the misty light, 
Bearing a turret huge and black, 
And said, "The old sea serpent's back 

110 



THE CRUISE OF THE MONITOR 111 

Carting away, 
By light of day, 
Uncle Sam's fort from New York bay." 

Forth from a Southern city's dock 
Our frigates' strong blockade to mock, 
Crept a monster of rugged build, 
The work of crafty hands, well skilled — 

Old Merrimac, 

With an iron back 
Wooden ships would find hard to crack. 

Straight to where the Cumberland lay 
The mail-clad monster made its way ; 
Its deadly prow struck deep and sure, 
And the hero's fighting days were o'er. 

Ah ! many the braves 

Who found their graves 
With that good ship beneath the waves. 

Flushed with success, the victor flew, 
Furious, the startled squadron through ; 
Sinking, burning, driving ashore, 
Until the Sabbath day was o'er, 

Resting at night, 

To renew the fight 
With vengeful ire by morning's light. 



112 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Out of its den it burst anew, 
When the gray mist the sun broke through, 
Steaming to where, in clinging sands, 
The frigate Minnesota stands, 

A sturdy foe 

To overthrow, 
But in woeful plight to receive a blow. 

But see ! beneath her bow appears 
A champion no danger fears ; 
A pigmy craft, that seems to be, 
To this new lord that rules the sea, 

Like David of old 

To Goliath bold — 
Youth and giant, by scripture told. 

Round the roaring despot playing, 
With willing spirit helm obeying, 
Spurning the iron against it hurled, 
While belching turret rapid whirled, 

And swift shots seethe 

With smoky wreathe, 
Told that the shark was showing his teeth. 

The Monitor fought. In grim amaze 
The Merrimacs upon it gaze, 
Cowering 'neath the iron hail, 
Crashing into their coat of mail, 



THE CRUISE OF THE MONITOR 113 

They swore, "this craft, 
The devil's shaft, 
Looked like a cheese box on a raft." 

Hurrah ! little giant of ' 62 ! Bold Worden with his 

gallant crew 
Forces the fight ; the day is won ; 
Back to his den the monster's gone, 

With crippled claws 

And broken jaws, 
Defeated in a reckless cause. 

Hurrah for the master mind that wrought, 
With iron hand, this iron thought ! 
Strength and safety with speed combined, 
Ericsson's gift to all mankind ; 

To curb abuse, 

And chains to loose, 
Hurrah for the Monitor's famous cruise ! 

George M. Baker. 



THE NIGHT OF CHANTILLY 

IN March, 1862, McClellan set out from Wash- 
ington to capture the Confederate capital. 
At Yorktown he was held in check for a month by 
an inferior force of Confederates. It was the 
last of May before he reached Fair Oaks (Seven 
Pines), seven miles from Richmond. The Con- 
federates here attacked him, and a furious battle 
of two days' duration ensued, when the Con- 
federates were driven back. A notable event 
of this engagement was the appointment of Gen- 
eral Robert E. Lee, as commander in chief of the 
Confederate armies; in place of General Joseph 
E. Johnston, who was severely wounded. 

One of the most conspicuous figures of this 
battle of Fair Oaks was General Philip Kearney. 

In the words of Stedman : — 

"When the battle went ill, and the bravest were 
solemn : — 
He rode down the length of the withering column, 
His sword waved us on and we answered the sign. " 
114 



THE NIGHT OF CHANTILLY 115 

"Kearney was the bravest man and the most 
perfect soldier I ever saw," said General Scott. 
"A man made for the profession of arms," says 
Rope. " In the field he was always ready, always 
skillful, always brave, always untiring, always 
hopeful, and always vigilant and alert." 

He distinguished himself in the War with Mexico, 
and lost an arm while he was leading cavalry 
troops in close pursuit of the retreating Mexicans, 
at the battle of Churubusco, when they retreated 
into the city of San Antonio itself. 

Mounted upon his great gray steed, "Mon- 
mouth," he spurred through a rampart, felling 
the Mexicans as he went. A thousand arms were 
raised to strike him, a thousand sabers glistened 
in the air, when he hurriedly fell back, but too 
late to escape the wound which necessitated the 
amputation of his left arm. 

At Churubusco ended the spectacular career of 
the celebrated San Patricios battalion of Irish 
deserters, who deserted to the American army on 
the Canadian border and afterwards deserted 
to the Mexicans from the Texan border, fighting 
against the American in every Mexican war 



116 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

battle of consequence from Palo Alto to Churu- 
busco. After capture the leaders and many of 
the men were court-martialed and shot ; their 
commander, the notorious Thomas Riley, among 
the latter. The survivors were branded in the 
cheek with the letter "D" as a symbol of their 
treachery. 

General Kearney resigned from the army in 1851 
and made a tour of the world. He then went to 
France and fought in the war of that country 
against Italy. At Magenta, while he was lead- 
ing the daring and hazardous charge that turned 
the situation and won Algiers to France, he charged 
with the bridle in his teeth. 

For his bravery he received the Cross of the 
Legion of Honor, being the first American thus 
honored. 

When the Civil War cloud burst, he came back 
to the United States and was made brigadier 
general in the Federal army and given the com- 
mand of the First New Jersey Brigade. 

His timely arrival at Williamsburg saved the 
day for the Federals. 

In the engagement at Fair Oaks, 



THE NIGHT OF CHANTILLY 117 

"Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor 
rose highest, 
Where the aim from the thicket was surest and 
nighest," 

there was no charge like Kearney's. 

"How he strode his brown steed ! How we saw his 
blade brighten, 
In the one hand still left, — and the reins in his 
teeth!" 

General Oliver 0. Howard lost his right arm in this 
battle. When the amputation was taking place, 
he looked grimly up at General Kearney, who was 
present, and remarked, "We'll buy our gloves 
together, after this." 

At Chantilly, a few days after the second battle 
of Bull Run, wherein he forced the gallant Stone- 
wall Jackson back, he penetrated into the Con- 
federate lines and met his death. 

The Confederates had won. The dusk had 
fallen and General Kearney was reconnoitering 
after placing his division. 

"He rode right into our men," feelingly relates 
a Confederate soldier, "then stopping suddenly, 
called out, 




What troops are these ? 



THE NIGHT OF CHANTILLY 119 

"'What troops are these ?.'" 

Some one replied, "Hays' Mississippi Brigade/ ' 

He turned quickly in an attempt to escape. 
A shower of bullets fell about him. He leaned 
forward as if to protect himself, but a ball struck 
him in the spine. He reeled and fell. 

Under the white flag of truce, General Lee sent his 
remains to General Hooker, who had the body 
transported to New York, where it was interred 
with becoming honors. 

"Oh, evil the black shroud of night of Chantilly, 
That hid him from sight of his brave men and tried." 



KEARNEY AT SEVEN PINES 

SO that soldierly legend is still on its journey, — 
That story of Kearney who knew not how to 

yield ! 
'Twas the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry, and 

Birney, 
Against twenty thousand he rallied the field. 
Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose 

highest, 
Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf 

oak and pine, 
Where the aim from the thicket was surest and 

nighest, — 
No charge like Phil Kearney's along the whole line. 

When the battle went ill, and the bravest were solemn 
Near the dark Seven Pines, where we still held our 

ground 
He rode down the length of the withering column, 
And his heart at our war cry leapt up with a bound. 
He snuffed like his charger, the wind of the powder, — 
His sword waved us on and we answered the sign; 
Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang the 

louder, 

120 



KEARNEY AT SEVEN PINES 121 

"There's the devil's own fun, boys, along the whole 
line!" 



How he strode his brown steed ! How we saw his 

blade brighten, 
In the one hand still left, — and the reins in his 

teeth ! 
He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, 
But a soldier's glance shot from his visor beneath. 
Up came the reserves to the mellay infernal, 
Asking where to go in, — through the clearing or 

pine? 
"0, anywhere ! Forward ! 'Tis all the same, Colonel ! 
You'll find lovely fighting along the whole line !" 

Oh, evil the black shroud of night of Chantilly, 
That hid him from sight of his brave men and tried ! 
Foul, foul sped the bullet that clipped the white lily, 
The flower of our knighthood, the whole army's 

pride ! 
Yet we dream that he still, — in that shadowy region 
Where the dead form their ranks at the wan drum- 
mer's sign, — 
Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion, 
And the word still is "Forward!" along the whole 
line. 

Edmund Clarence Stedman. 



THE CAVALRY CHARGE 

WITH bray of the trumpet 
And roll of the drum, 
And keen ring of bugle, 

The cavalry come. 
Sharp clank the steel scabbards 

The bridle chains ring, 

And foam from red nostrils 

The wild chargers fling. 

Tramp ! tramp ! o'er the greensward 

That quivers below, 
Scarce held by the curb bit 

The fierce horses go ! 
And the grim-visaged colonel, 

With ear-rending shout, 
Peals forth to the squadrons 

The order: "Trot out!" 

One hand on the saber, 

And one on the rein, 
The troopers move forward 

In line on the plain. 
122 



THE CAVALRY CHARGE 123 

As rings the word, " Gallop !" 

The steel scabbards clank ; 
As each rowel is pressed 

To a horse's hot flank ; 
And swift is their rush 

And the wild torrents flow, 
When it pours from the crag 

On the valley below. 

" Charge ! " thunders the leader ; 

Like shaft from the bow 
Each mad horse is hurled 

On the wavering foe. 
A thousand bright sabers 

Are gleaming in air ; 
A thousand dark horses 

Are dashed on the square. 
Resistless and reckless 

Of aught may betide, 
Like demons, not mortals 

The wild troopers ride. 
Cut right ! and cut left ! 

For the parry who needs ? 
The bayonets shiver 

Like wind-scattered reeds. 

Vain — vain the red volley 
That bursts from the square, — 



124 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

The random-shot bullets 

Are wasted in air. 
Triumphant, remorseless, 

Unerring as death, — 
No saber that's stainless 

Returns to its sheath. 
The wounds that are dealt 

By that murderous steel 
Will never yield case 

For the surgeon to heal. 
Hurrah ! they are broken — 

Hurrah ! boys, they fly ! 
None linger save those 

Who but linger to die. 

Rein up your hot horses 

And call in your men, — 
The trumpet sounds, " Rally 

To colors ! " again. 
Some saddles are empty, 

Some comrades are slain 
And some noble horses 

Lie stark on the plain : 
But war's a chance game, boys, 

And weeping is vain. 

Francis A. Durivage. 



AN IMMORTAL TWAIN 

IT is a coincidence worthy of note, and hereto- 
fore unremarked by historians, that, as in the 
hour of birth of the National Flag there was 
given to posterity the name of a great Revolu- 
tionary hero, the hour of birth of the Confederate 
Battle Emblem immortalized the name of a hero 
of the Confederacy. 

At four o'clock in the afternoon of that hard- 
fought battle of Manassas (Bull Run), July 21, 
1861, the Federals were thinning out the lines in 
gray. Now they were directing their efforts 
against the wings of Jackson and Beauregard. 
Jackson's solemn visage was growing more solemn ; 
Beauregard was anxiously scanning the land- 
scape beyond, in the hope of discovering the 
approach of badly needed reinforcements. 

Over the hill a long line was seen advancing. 
The day was hot and dry and not a leaf stirred 
in the dust-laden air. Clouds of smoke and grime 

125 




General Beauregard raised his glass and surveyed 
them critically. 



AN IMMORTAL TWAIN 127 

enveloped the advancing troops and obscured 
their colors. General Beauregard raised his glass 
and surveyed them critically. 

He then called an officer and instructed him to 
go to General Johnston and inform him that the 
enemy was receiving reinforcements and it might 
be wise for him to withdraw to another point. 
Still, he was not fully assured that the coming 
troops were Federals! The flag hung limp and 
motionless and could not be accurately discerned. 

If these were Federals the day was surely lost. 
But if they were Confederates there was a fight- 
ing chance to win. 

He determined to hold his position, and called 
out, 

"What troops are those?" 

No one could tell. Just then a gust of wind 
spread the colors. The flag was the Stars and 
Bars — General Early's brigade, not a moment 
too soon. 

"We must have a more distinct flag/' an- 
nounced General Beauregard vehemently, in in- 
finite relief: "One that we can recognize when 
we see it." 



128 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

In that instant was conceived the Confederate 
Battle Flag, used thereafter throughout the Civil 
strife. 

After the battle, the design — St. Andrew's 
Cross — was submitted by General Beauregard, 
and, approved by General Joseph E. Johnston, 
was adopted by the Confederate Congress. 

" Conceived on the field of battle, it lived on the 
field of battle, and was proudly borne on every 
field from Manassas to Appomattox/' 

The Confederates were routed and running in 
disorder. General Jackson was standing immov- 
able. General Bee rode to his side. "They will 
beat us back!" 

"No, Sir," replied Jackson, "we will give them 
the bayonet." 

General Bee rode back to his brigade. "Look 
at Jackson," said he, "standing there like a 
stone wall. Rally behind him." With this his 
brigade fell into line. 

Early's troops arrived and formed. The 
Federals were beaten into a tumultuous retreat 
that never slacked until Centerville was reached. 



AN IMMORTAL TWAIN 120 

From that day the name "Stonewall" at- 
tached to Thomas Jonathan Jackson and was 
peculiarly appropriate as indicating the adaman- 
tine, unyielding character of the man. 

The motto of his life was : "A man can do what 
he wills to do," and in his resolves he depended 
for guidance upon Divine leading. He tried 
always to throw a religious atmosphere about his 
men ; and out of respect to his feelings, if for no 
other reason, they often refrained from evil. His 
mount was a little sorrel horse, that the men 
affirmed was strikingly like him as it could not 
run except towards the enemy. 

The ardent love of his troops for him made the 
tragedy of his death the more deplorable. Mis- 
taking him for the enemy as he was returning 
from the front, in the gathering darkness at 
Chancellorsville, May, 1863, his own men shot 
him, — shot him down with victory in his grasp. 

The whole country was horror-struck. Friend 
and foe alike paused in sympathy at such a situa- 
tion. 

To the Southern cause it was more than the 
taking off of a leader ; it was an irreparable loss. 



130 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

By his death was left a gap in the Confederate 
ranks that no one else could fill. 

Prior to the breaking out of the war Jackson 
had been unknown, but in the two years of his 
service he accomplished more than any other 
officer on his side. He saved Richmond from 
early fall by keeping the Union forces apart, 
until he was joined by Lee, when together they 
drove McClellan from within a few miles of the 
Confederate Capital and cleared the James River 
of gunboats. 

In his report from Chancellorsville, General 
Robert E. Lee pays tribute to the illustrious officer 
thus : — 

"The movement by which the enemy's position 
was turned and the fortune of the day decided, 
was conducted by the lamented Lieutenant 
General Jackson, who, as has already been stated, 
was severely wounded near the close of the engage- 
ment Saturday evening. I do not propose here 
to speak of the character of this illustrious man, 
since removed from the scene of his eminent use- 
fulness, by the hand of an inscrutable but all-wise 
Providence. I nevertheless desire to pay the 



AN IMMORTAL TWAIN 131 

tribute of my admiration to the matchless energy 
and skill that marked this last act of his life, 
forming as it did a worthy conclusion of that long 
series of splendid achievements which won for 
him the lasting love and gratitude of his country. 

" R. E. Lee. 
" General S. Cooper, 

" Adjt. and Insp. Gen. C. S. Army, 
" Richmond, Va." 



STONEWALL JACKSON 

NOT midst the lightning of the stormy fight, 
Nor in the rush upon the vandal foe, 
Did Kingly Death with his resistless might 
Lay the great leader low. 

His warrior soul its earthly shackles broke 
In the full sunshine of a peaceful town ; 

When all the storm was hushed, the trusty oak 
That propped our cause went down. 

Though his alone the blood that flecks the ground, 
Recalling all his grand heroic deeds, 

Freedom herself is writhing in the wound 
And all the country bleeds. 

He entered not the Nation's Promised Land, 
At the red belching of the cannon's mouth 

But broke the House of Bondage with his hand, 
The Moses of the South ! 

gracious God ! not gainless is the loss ; 

A glorious sunbeam gilds thy sternest frown, 
And while his country staggers neath the Cross, 

He rises with the Crown. 

Henry Lynden Flash. 

132 



THE HIGH TIDE AT GETTYSBURG 

A CLOUD possessed the hollow field, 
The gathering battle's smoky shield : 
Athwart the gloom the lightning flashed, 
And through the cloud some horsemen dashed, 
And from the heights the thunder pealed. 

Then, at the brief command of Lee, 
Moved out that matchless infantry, 
With Pickett leading grandly down, 
To rush against the roaring crown, 
Of those dread heights of destiny. 

Far heard above the angry guns 

A cry across the tumult runs, — 

The voice that rang through Shiloh's woods 

And Chickamauga's solitudes, 

The fierce South cheering on her sons ! 

Ah, how the withering tempest blew 
Against the front of Pettigrew ! 
A Khamsin wind that scorched and singed 
Like that infernal flame that fringed 
The British squares at Waterloo ! 
133 



134 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

A thousand fell where Kemper led ; 
A thousand died where Garnett bled : 
In blinding flame and strangling smoke 
The remnant through the batteries broke 
And crossed the works with Armistead. 

"Once more in Glory's van with me!" 
Virginia cried to Tennessee ; 
"We two together, come what may, 
Shall stand upon these works today!" 
(The reddest day in history.) 

Brave Tennessee ! In reckless way 
Virginia heard her comrade say : 
"Close round this rent and riddled rag!" 
What time she set her battle-flag 
Amid the guns of Doubleday. 

But who shall break the guards that wait 
Before the awful face of Fate? 
The tattered standards of the South 
Were shriveled at the cannon's mouth, 
And all her hopes were desolate. 

In vain the Tennesseean set 
His breast against the bayonet ; 
In vain Virginia charged and raged, 
A tigress in her wrath uncaged, 
Till all the hill was red and wet. 



136 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Above the bayonets, mixed and crossed, 
Men saw a gray, gigantic ghost 
Receding through the battle-cloud, 
And heard across the tempest loud 
The death-cry of a nation lost ! 

The brave went down ! Without disgrace 
They leaped to Ruin's red embrace ; 
They only heard Fame's thunders wake, 
And saw the dazzling sun-burst break 
In smiles on Glory's bloody face ! 

They fell, who lifted up a hand 
And bade the sun in heaven to stand ; 
They smote and fell, who set the bars 
Against the progress of the stars, 
And stayed the march of Motherland ! 

They stood, who saw the future come 
On through the fight's delirium ; 
They smote and stood, who held the hope 
Of nations on that slippery slope 
Amid the cheers of Christendom. 

God lives ! He forged the iron will 
That clutched and held the trembling hill I 
God lives and reigns ! He built and lent 
The heights for freedom's battlement 
Where floats her flag in triumph still ! 



THE HIGH TIDE AT GETTYSBURG 137 

Fold up the banners ! Smelt the guns ! 
Love rules. Her gentler purpose runs. 
A mighty mother turns in tears 
The pages of her battle years, 
Lamenting all her fallen sons ! 

Will Henry Thompson. 



UNITED 

ALL day it shook the land — grim battle's thun- 
der tread ; 
And fields at morning green, at eve are trampled 

red. 
But now, on the stricken scene, twilight and quiet 

fall; 
Only, from hill to hill, night's tremulous voices call ; 
And comes from far along, where camp fires warning 

burn, 
The dread, hushed sound which tells of morning's 

sad return. 

Timidly nature awakens ; the stars come out over- 
head, 

And a flood of moonlight breaks like a voiceless 
prayer for the dead. 

And steals the blessed wind, like Odin's fairest 
daughter, 

In viewless ministry, over the fields of slaughter ; 

Soothing the smitten life, easing the pang of death, 

And bearing away on high the passing warrior's 
breath. 

138 



UNITED 139 

Two youthful forms are lying apart from the thick- 
est fray, 
The one in Northern blue, the other in Southern 

gray. 
Around his lifeless foeman the arms of each are 

pressed, 
And the head of one is pillowed upon the other's 

breast. 
As if two loving brothers, wearied with work and 

play, 
Had fallen asleep together, at close of the summer 

day. 
Foemen were they, and brothers ? — Again the 

battle's din, 
With its sullen, cruel answer, from far away 

breaks in. 

Benjamin Sledd. 



OLD HEART OF OAK 

TO the Navy is ascribed the larger shares in 
the Civil War, of overcoming the prowess 
of the South. "The blockade sapped the indus- 
trial strength of the Confederacy/' 

A powerful factor in this blockade was David G. 
Farragut. Farragut was a Southerner by birth — 
a Tennessean — and fought, as it were, against 
his own hearthstone. Yet, when it is considered 
that from early youth he was in the marine serv- 
ice of the government and by arms upheld the 
national flag, and when it is remembered with 
what reverence the seaman regards the flag under 
which he serves, his choice is not surprising. 

Scenes wherein men fought and died for the 
Stars and Stripes and often with their dying breath 
expressing adoration of the nation's emblem were 
common experiences of his life. 

In his memoirs is related a pathetic story of a 
youth's death from accidental shooting. "Put 

140 



OLD HEART OF OAK 141 

me in the boat/' implored he of his comrades, 
"that I may die under my country's flag." An- 
other, a young Scotchman, who had a leg cut off 
in battle, cried out mournfully, "I can no longer 
be of use to the flag of my adoption," and threw 
himself overboard. 

The necessity of choosing between the North 
and the South brought Farragut many sleepless 
nights and forced him between the fires of censure 
from the South and doubt of his fealty from the 
North, as it was recognized that the Southern 
man, as a rule, felt that his first allegiance was 
due to his State. 

When he was but a lad of seven years, Farragut 
lost his mother and was adopted by his father's 
friend, that fighting old Commodore David 
Porter, who was destined to raise both his adopted 
and his own son to become admirals in the United 
States Navy. 

For little Dave Farragut the sea had always a 
wonderful fascination, and at the age of twelve he 
was made a midshipman on the Essex, a warship 
of 1812. The Essex one day captured a whaling 
vessel, and Captain Porter placed David in charge 



142 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

to steer her across the Pacific. The captain of 
the whaler, when clear of the Essex, thought to 
regain his vessel from the boy, by countermanding 
his orders. He threatened to shoot any sailor 
who dared to disobey him. Right here, the 
mettle that was to make Farragut the head of the 
American navy and the idol of the American 
people manifested itself. He repeated his order 
at first given; and when the mutinous captain 
appeared from below decks where he had gone 
for his pistols, he was told by the youthful com- 
mander that he would have to stay below or be 
thrown overboard. He chose the former. 

To this same dauntless spirit, the Federal 
government owed the blockade of the lower 
Mississippi and the closing of the ports of Mobile 
Bay, that inflicted such injuries upon the Confed- 
eracy as to hasten the end of the war. "With 
ports closed," says an authority, "the Southern 
armies were reduced to a pitiful misery, the long 
endurance of which makes a noble chapter in 
heroism.' ' 

The lower Mississippi was controlled by the 
Confederates. Possession of the river and the 



OLD HEART OF OAK 143 

capture of New Orleans could be accomplished 
only by running the forts situated below the city 
some seventy miles. To run the forts with wooden 
vessels and escape destruction from the armed 
vessels of the Confederacy in the Mississippi 
was a hazardous undertaking. Farragut believed 
he could do this. In December, 1861, he wrote to 
a friend: "Keep your lips closed and burn my 
letters. Perfect silence is the first injunction of 
the Secretary. I am to have a flag in the gulf, 
and the rest depends upon myself." 

In March he again wrote, " I have now attained 
what I have been looking for all my life — a flag 
— and having attained it, all that is necessary 
to complete the scene is a victory." The victory 
he was soon to have. 

At two o'clock the morning of April 24, 1862, 
the signal for the start for the forts was given. 
In a few moments the thunderous roar of batteries 
and guns broke upon the air. The river became 
a mass of writhing flame. 

" The passing of Forts Jackson and St. Phillips 
was one of the most awful sights and events I 
ever saw or expect to experience," says Farragut. 



144 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Rafts of cotton were set on fire by the Confeder- 
ates and came down the river, scattering disaster 
as they came. One of these caught the Hartford, 
Farragut's flagship, and set it on fire. So high 
rose the flames that even the courageous com- 
mander was for the moment daunted and ex- 
claimed, "My God! is this to end this way!" 
By the expeditious use of the hose the flames 
were controlled. 

The strong barriers across the river were broken. 
By repeated and desperate efforts the Confederate 
boats were sunk or disabled. The levee at New 
Orleans was gained. The Crescent City was 
taken. 

Thus was accomplished a feat in naval warfare 
reckoned without a parallel in naval history, 
except in that of twenty-four months later in 
Mobile Bay. In compliment to his exploit the 
rank of rear admiral was conferred upon Farra- 
gut. Of the fleet, as subordinate officers, were 
Dewey and Schley, a future admiral and a rear- 
admiral. 

To his home, the victorious commander ad- 
dressed the following letter : — 



OLD HEART OF OAK 145 

"My dearest Wife and Boy. 

" I am so agitated I can scarcely write, and I 
shall only tell you that it has pleased Almighty 
God to preserve my life through a fire such as the 
world has scarcely known.' ' 

When the ships lay safely at the levee with but 
one of the squadron lost, Farragut by note re- 
quested the mayor of New Orleans to remove the 
Confederate flag and to surrender the city for- 
mally. In curt terms the doughty mayor refused 
to do so, stating there was not in the city of New 
Orleans a man who would take down that flag. 
Then ensued a most unique correspondence 
between the two, through which Farragut made 
himself misunderstood to the extent that it was 
rumored that it was his intention to turn the guns 
on the city. At the expiration of forty-eight hours, 
however, an officer of the fleet removed the of- 
fending flag and hoisted the Stars and Stripes 
over the city hall. 

To injure purposely the defenseless, as in 
turning the guns on the city, was not in keeping 
with the nature of David Farragut as revealed 
in history. Power combined with gentleness 



146 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

were the marked traits of his character. This 
gentleness had its finest reflex in his delicate 
attentions to his invalid wife. In the presence 
of her continuous suffering his warrior nature 
was laid aside, and his chivalric kindness shone 
forth in acts of rare devotion and tender 
care. 

When he was asked one day, as to his feelings 
during a battle in seeing men fall writhing upon 
every side, he answered, "I thought of nothing 
but the working of the guns ; but after the battle, 
when I saw the mangled bodies of my shipmates, 
dead and dying, groaning and expiring often with 
the most patriotic sentiments upon their lips, 
I became faint and sick. My sympathies were 
all aroused." Markedly noticeable in his letters 
is the absence of self-elation over his victories. 
There are, rather, a rejoicing in the advancement 
of his cause and gratitude to the Almighty for 
preservation. In this we read anew the lesson 
of true greatness. 

Just prior to entering into the noted action of 
Mobile Bay, he wrote his son respecting his views 
of duty and death. "He who dies in doing his 



148 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

duty to his country, and at peace with his God, 
has played out the drama of life to the best ad- 
vantage." Shortly after this was penned, the 
Hartford was steaming into Mobile Bay, under 
the heavy fire of guns of Fort Morgan and Fort 
Gaines, in the execution of a naval feat that at- 
tracted the attention and admiration of the 
whole civilized world. 

At the mouth of the bay the two islands upon 
which the forts stood were less than a mile apart. 
The passage had been strewn with torpedoes by 
the Confederates, and only a narrow strip of 
water was left clear. Through this strip went 
Farragut's fleet : the Tecumseh first, the Brooklyn 
next, the Hartford third. Suddenly the prow 
of the Tecumseh lifted : she veered and sank. 
The Brooklyn backed and held Farragut's ship 
directly under the guns of Fort Morgan. Shot 
and shell hurtled in the air. The smoke grew 
dense. The fire from the cannons lit the heavens. 
Men shouted and fell. 

"What's the matter!" called Farragut. 

"Torpedoes," some one answered. 

Never a profane man, he now gave vent to an 



OLD HEART OF OAK 149 

oath, and cried out, "Full speed, Jouett. Four 
bells, Captain Drayton." 

The Hartford steamed to the front. The 
torpedoes crackled under her as she sped on ; but 
the forts were passed. And high in the rigging 
of his ship, in full view of the enemy and imminent 
danger of the fiery missiles, was seen Farragut, 
whence he directed all the ships' maneuvers. 
An officer, observing him standing there, feared 
lest a shot would cause his fall, and carried a rope 
and lashed him to the mast. 

In maddened fury the ironclad Tennessee 
plunged straight at the Hartford. All the fleet 
bore down upon the Confederate ship. And 
crowding together, the Lackawanna, needing 
room, struck the flagship by accident, and came 
near striking the commander. Against the 
Tennessee every Federal ship now redoubled her 
efforts, until, battered and bruised and despairing, 
she struck her colors. 

The captain of the Tennessee was Buchanan, 
the same who commanded the Merrimac in her 
fight with the Monitor in Hampton Roads. "The 
Tennessee and Buchanan are my prisoners," 



150 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

wrote Farragut home. "He has lost a leg. It 
was a hard fight, but Buck met his fate manfully." 
Fort Morgan and Fort Gaines surrendered and 
Farragut's fierce conflicts were at an end. Nearly 
so was his path of life. Congress honored him 
with the rank of admiral, the highest honor to be 
conferred. America and foreign nations extended 
him the most distinguishing courtesies. And 
then — the unseen Pilot steered his course across 
the unknown sea unto the harbor of the city 
Eternal. 



FARRAGUT 

FARRAGUT, Farragut, 
Old Heart of Oak, 
Daring Dave Farragut, 
Thunderbolt stroke, 
Watches the hoary mist 

Lift from the bay, 
Till his flag, glory-kissed, 
Greets the young day. 

Far, by gray Morgan's walls, 

Looms the black fleet. 
Hark, deck to rampart calls 

With the drums' beat ! 
Buoy your chains overboard, 

While the steam hums ; 
Men ! to the battlement, 

Farragut comes. 

See, as the hurricane 

Hurtles in wrath 
Squadrons of clouds amain 

Back from its path ! 
151 



152 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Back to the parapet, 

To the gun's lips, 
Thunderbolt Farragut 

Hurls the black ships. 

Now through the battle's roar 

Clear the boy sings, 
"By the mark fathoms four," 

While his lead swings. 
Steadily the wheelmen five 

"Nor' by East keep her." 
"Steady," but two alive : 

How the shells sweep her ! 

Lashed to the mast that sways 

Over red decks, 
Over the flame that plays 

Round the torn wrecks, 
Over the dying lips 

Framed for a cheer, 
Farragut leads his ships, 

Guides the line clear. 

On by heights cannon-browed, 

While the spars quiver ; 
Onward still flames the cloud 

Where the hulls shiver. 



FARRAGUT 153 

See, yon fort's star is set, 

Storm and fire past. 
Cheer him, lads — Farragut, 

Lashed to the mast ! 

Oh ! while Atlantic's breast 

Bears a white sail, 
While the Gulf's towering crest 

Tops a green vale, 
Men thy bold deeds shall tell, 

Old Heart of Oak, 
Daring Dave Farragut, 

Thunderbolt stroke ! 

William Tuckey Meredith. 
August, 1864. 



PINE AND PALM 

(Grant and Lee) 

Charles Francis Adams in address before Chicago 
Chapter of Phi Beta Kappa, June 17, 1902. 

I .NOW come to what I have always regarded 
— shall ever regard as the most creditable 
episode in all American history, — an episode 
without a blemish, — imposing, dignified, simple, 
heroic. I refer to Appomattox. Two men met 
that day, representative of American civilization, 
the whole world looking on. The two were 
Grant and Lee, — types each. Both rose, and 
rose unconsciously, to the full height of the occa- 
sion, — and than that occasion there has been 
none greater. About it and them, there was no 
theatrical display, no self-consciousness, no effort 
at effect. A great crisis was to be met ; and they 
met that crisis as great countrymen should. 
That month of April saw the close of exactly 

154 



PINE AND PALM 155 

four years of persistent strife, — a strife which 
the whole civilized world had been watching 
intently. Then, suddenly, came the dramatic 
climax at Appomattox, dramatic I say, not 
theatrical, — severe in its simple, sober, matter- 
of-fact majesty. The world, I again assert, has 
seen nothing like it ; and the world, instinctively, 
was at the time conscious of the fact. I like to 
dwell on the familiar circumstances of the day; 
on its momentous outcome; on its far-reaching 
results. It affords one of the greatest educational 
object lessons to be found in history; and the 
actors were worthy of the theater, the auditory, 
and the play. 

A mighty tragedy was drawing to a close. The 
breathless world was the audience. It was a 
bright, balmy April Sunday in a quiet Virginia 
landscape, with two veteran armies confronting 
each other; one game to the death, completely 
in the grasp of the other. The future was at 
stake. What might ensue? What might not 
ensue? Would the strife end then and there? 
Would it die in a death-grapple, only to reappear 
in that chronic form of a vanquished but indomi- 



156 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

table people, writhing and struggling, in the grasp 
of an insatiate but only nominal victor ? 

The answer depended on two men, — the cap- 
tains of the contending forces. Think what then 
might have resulted had these two men been other 
than what they were, — had the one been stern 
and aggressive, the other sullen and unyielding. 
Most fortunately for us, they were what and 
who they were, — Grant and Lee. Of the two, I 
know not to which to award the palm. Instinc- 
tively, unconsciously, they vied not unsuccess- 
fully each with the other, in dignity, magnanimity, 
simplicity. 



THE CONQUERED BANNER 

LIKE several other poems of renown, "The 
Conquered Banner" was written under 
stress of deep emotion. 

Abram J. Ryan (Father Ryan) had been 
ordained as a Catholic priest. Shortly after his 
ordination he was made a chaplain in the Con- 
federate army. 

When the news came of General Lee's surrender 
at Appomattox he was in his room in Knoxville, 
where his regiment was quartered. 

He bowed his head upon the table and wept 
bitterly. 

He then arose and looked about him for a piece 
of paper, but could find nothing but a sheet of 
brown paper wrapped about a pair of shoes. 
Spreading this out upon the table, he, "in a spirit 
of sorrow and desolation" as expressed in his own 
words, wrote upon it "The Conquered Banner." 

The following morning the regiment was ordered 

157 



158 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

away, and the poem upon the table was forgotten. 
To the author's surprise it appeared over his 
name, in a Louisville paper, a few weeks later, 
having been forwarded to the paper by the lady 
in whose house he had stopped in Knoxville. 

The poem was widely copied, and was read at 
gatherings throughout the South with ardor and 
often with tears. 

As an expression of sorrow without bitterness 
it is considered a fine example. 



THE CONQUERED BANNER 

17^ URL that Banner, for 'tis weary ; 
' Round its staff 'tis drooping dreary ; 
Furl it, fold it — it is best ; 
For there's not a man to wave it, 
And there's not a sword to save it, 
And there's not one left to lave it 
In the blood which heroes gave it ; 
And its foes now scorn and brave it ; 
Furl it, hide it — let it rest ! 

Take that Banner down ! 'tis tattered ; 
Broken is its staff and shattered ; 
And the valiant hosts are scattered, 

Over whom it floated high. 
Oh, 'tis hard for us to fold it, 
Hard to think there's none to hold it, 
Hard that those who once unrolled it 

Now must furl it with a sigh ! 

Furl that Banner — furl it sadly : 
Once ten thousands hailed it gladly, 
And ten thousands wildly, madly, 
Swore it should forever wave — 
159 



160 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

Swore that foeman's sword could never 
Hearts like theirs entwined dissever, 
And that flag should float forever 
O'er their freedom or their grave ! 

Furl it ! for the hands that grasped it, 
And the hearts that fondly clasped it, 

Cold and dead are lying low ; 
And the Banner — it is trailing, 
While around it sounds the wailing 

Of its people in their woe. 

For, though conquered, they adore it — 
Love the cold, dead hands that bore it ! 

Weep for those who fell before it ! 
Pardon those who trailed and tore it ! 
But, oh, wildly they deplore it, 

Now who furl and fold it so ! 

Furl that Banner ! True, 'tis gory, 
Yet, 'tis wreathed around with glory, 
And 'twill live in song and story 

Though its folds are in the dust ! 
For its fame on brightest pages, 
Penned by poets and by sages, 
Shall go sounding down the ages — 

Furl its folds though now we must. 



THE CONQUERED BANNER 161 

Furl that Banner, softly, slowly ; 
Treat it gently — it is holy, 

For it droops above the dead ; 
Touch it not — unfold it never ; 
Let it droop there, furled forever, — 

For its people's hopes are fled. 

Abram Joseph Ryan. 



DEATH OF GRANT 

AS one by one withdraw the lofty actors 
From that great play on history's stage eternal, 
That lurid, partial act of war and peace — of old and 

new contending, 
Fought out through wrath, fears, dark dismays, and 

many a long suspense ; 
All past — and since, in countless graves receding, 

mellowing 
Victor and vanquished — Lincoln's and Lee's — 

now thou with them, 
Man of the mighty day — and equal to the day ! 
Thou from the prairies ? — and tangled and many 
veined and hard has been thy part, 
To admiration has it been enacted ! 

Walt Whitman. 

The humblest soldier who carried a musket is 
entitled to as much credit for the results of the war 
as those who were in command. 

U. S. Grant. 



162 




U. S. Grant. 



ROBERT E. LEE 

A GALLANT foeman in the fight, 
A brother when the fight was o'er, 
The hand that led the host with might 
The blessed torch of learning bore. 

No shriek of shells nor roll of drums, 
No challenge fierce, resounding far, 

When reconciling wisdom comes 
To heal the cruel wounds of war. 

Thought may the minds of men divide, 
Love makes the heart of nations one, 

And so, thy soldier grave beside, 
We honor thee, Virginia's son. 

Julia Ward Howe. 



164 




Robert E. Lee. 



OLD GLORY ON THE ISLAND 

MEN who have had grave differences and 
looked at each other coldly and passed 
with unsmiling faces have, when some calamity 
threatened, sprang shoulder to shoulder and 
spent their united strength in defense of a com- 
mon cause. 

Thus in the Spanish-American spurt of war, — ■ 
serious enough, too serious, alas, in some aspects ; 
but great in some of its beneficent results. In 
that call, "To Arms!" was laid to rest — for- 
ever forgotten — the old enmity between the 
North and the South, engendered by the Civil 
Strife. 

On the island of Cuba, the trenches of the 
United States Army were five miles in extent and 
in shape of a horseshoe. Above the trenches, 
five curving miles of Stars and Stripes gleamed. 

To the United States prisoners, confined in the 

166 




Every man uncovered and stood with silent lips, and 
eyes fixed on old glory. 



168 HOW THE FLAG BECAME OLD GLORY 

prison, within sight of these flags, but under the 
flag of Spain, the waving emblems before their 
eyes brought daily hope and courage. 

In full vision of the men in the trenches 
fluttered the flag of Spain; above their heads 
Old Glory flew, — the sheltering Stripes and 
Stars. 

As night came down, and land and shimmering 
sea was bathed in the white light of the sub- 
tropics, the strains of the " Star-Spangled Banner " 
were borne upon the air and fell away softly, as 
if coming from across the water. Every man 
uncovered and stood with silent lips, and eyes 
fixed upon Old Glory until the last echoing note 
died in the distance, then turned again to duties ; 
but upon his face was stamped the deeper under- 
standing of the meaning of it all — of Flag, and 
Home, and Country. 

Thus from the shores of a tropic island, fighting 
together for the flag of the nation, both Blue and 
Gray gained a new and happier viewpoint; and 
looking back across the warm and shining waters 
of the Gulf Stream, each knew that all was good, 
and said : — 



OLD GLORY ON THE ISLAND 169 

"Lo ! from the thunder-strife, 
And from the blown, white ashes of the dead, 
We rise to larger life." 

"There is a peace amid'st the shock of arms, 
That satisfies the soul, though all the air 
Hurtles with horror and with rude alarms. " 

"That clarion cry, My country ! makes men one." 



WHEELER'S BRIGADE AT SANTIAGO 

'^VTEATH the lanes of the tropic sun 
±\ The column is standing ready, 
Awaiting the fateful command of one 

Whose word will ring out 

To an answering shout 
To prove it alert and steady. 
And a stirring chorus all of them sung 

With singleness of endeavor, 
Though some to "The Bonny Blue Flag" had swung 

And some to "The Union For Ever." 

The order came sharp through the desperate air 

And the long ranks rose to follow, 
Till their dancing banners shone more fair 

Than the brightest ray 

Of the Cuban day 
On the hill and jungled hollow ; 
And to "Maryland" some in the days gone by 

Had fought through the combat's rumble 
And some for "Freedom's Battle-Cry" 

Had seen the broad earth crumble. 
170 



WHEELER'S BRIGADE AT SANTIAGO 171 

Full many a widow weeps in the night 

Who had been a man's wife in the morning ; 
For the banners we loved we bore to the height 

Where the enemy stood 

As a hero should 
His valor his country adorning ; 
But drops of pride with your tears of grief, 

Ye American women, mix ye ! 
For the North and South, with a Southern chief, 

Kept time to the tune of " Dixie." 

Wallace Rice. 



SOLDIERS 

SO many, many soldiers 
At reveille fared forth ; 
Such ready, willing soldiers, 
From sunny South and North. 

So many gallant soldiers 

At noon to face the fight ; 
So many weary wounded 

Home-dreaming in the night. 

So many quick to answer 

To drum and bugle sound ; 
So many war-scarred sleepers 

On death's white-tented ground. 

soldiers, silent soldiers, 

Calm-sleeping in the sun, 
Beneath one happy flag again, 

God rest you, every one. 

Of every human difference 

Great Time, the high priest, shrives ; 
While Southern winds are telling 

The fragrance of brave lives. 
172 



SOLDIERS 173 

Beneath the Southern willows, 

In slumber folded deep, 
soldiers, brothers, every one, 

God's peace attend your sleep. 

Will Allen Dromgoloe. 



Our battle-fields, safe in the keeping, 

Of Nature's kind, fostering care, 
Are blooming, — our heroes are sleeping, — 

. And peace broods perennial there. 
All over our land rings the story 

Of loyalty, fervent and true ; 
"One flag, and that flag is Old Glory," 
Alike for the Gray and the Blue. 

John Howard Jewett. 



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